What Matters Most
by Fate's Silver Chain
Summary: It had been weeks since they'd last seen the teenager, they'd thought of as a team mate. It was hardly suprising, then, that they didn't realise it was him, when they met him again. (8)
1. Chapter 1

The street was quiet, the only noise the dull rumbling of a lorry travelling over the overpass on the other side of the houses. The drunken man sang, boisterously along his path, ignorant of how much his voice echoed back through the street in his worryless stupour.

Lifting the bottle as though it weighed too much for him, he spun once in a flourish, as though bowing for an audience, before turning down a small alleyway, tripping over his own feet.

It took him a few seconds to realised he was lying down. He grumbled, quietly to himself about the unfairity of the world, moving a hand to push himself up. The firmness of the rag suprised him, but not as much as the blank, staring eyes that stood out in the darkness. With a cry, he jerked backwards, falling over himself as he pushed back towards the entrance.

The bottle clinked in his hand, causing him to stop. Looking at it, almost reassuringly, he took a gulp, ignoring the dribble that sneaked past his mouth and into his beard and clothes. Leaning against the wall, he pulled himself up, turning away from the alley, forgetting the dead body that was invisible to the street it sat on.

* * *

There was a light hum of overhead lights, audible over the quiet tapping of keys and the scatching of a pen. DiNozzo signed the last sheet with a flourish, grinning as he lay the pen down, smiling across the way to his co-worker.

Ziva glanced over at him. "What?"

"Oh." He said, leaning backwards. "It's nothing."

Ziva shook her head, frowning, turning back to her emails. DiNozzo frowned, standing up and moving over to her desk.

"Aren't you going to push me? Interrogate me?"

"Meh." She smiled up at him. "Do you want me to?"

DiNozzo paled at the thought, blushing slightly at McGee's laugh. He spun on his feet, turning to him instead.

"What about you? Don't you want to know?"

McGee sighed, used to him acting like this. "Want to know what?"

"That I have just found a girl. And she's beautiful, she's stunning, she's clever-"

"What happened to Jane, and Emily?" McGee muttered, concentrating on his computer.

Ziva grinned. "And Rebecca, Lucy, Marisse, Laura-Jo, Cathy-"

"Okay okay, I get the point." He grumbled, slinking over to his desk. "But I really think she's-"

Ziva cut him off with a snort, reaching for her cell phone as it rang.

"Hello?"

The phone was silent, the empty buzzing of the dial tone greeting her. She frowned, checking the number, confused as it came up unknown.

McGee caught the look. "What's wrong?"

"Just the call. Nobody answered."

"But, they rang you?" He said, brows drawn together.

She shrugged, closing the phone and placing it on her desk. "Must be nothing."

The phone rang again, and Ziva reached for it, growling slightly when it cut itself off again.

DiNozzo watched on, amused. "You being prank called there Ziva?"

She turned her gaze to him, threateningly raising her eyebrows. DiNozzo gulped and backed away.

"I mean, it's okay if you are, it happens to the best of us, right probie?"

"That's because it's you who prank called me thirty four times in a row. In one night."

DiNozzo sighed and tilted his head. "That was fun."

Ziva's phone rang again, and she dived for it, flipping it open and hissing into it. "Who ever the hell you are! Stop-"

"Ziva."

"Gibbs?" She quietened down, looking away from the two who were wincing in front of her.

"You having a problem with your phone, David?"

She sighed. "It would appear so."

"Then switch it off."

She paused. "Was there something you wanted?"

"Go home. Tell the others. You can finish the paperwork in the morning."

He hung up leaving her listening to the dial tone. "Well that was interesting."

"He didn't blow up?" DiNozzo asked, frowning.

"Nope. Told us to go home."

"He's letting us go early?"

"Apparently so." She stood up and turned, lifting her bag off the cabinet behind her. The other two copied the movement, heading to the elevator after finishing up and switching their computers off.

An agent stepped out as the doors opened, head down and gliding towards one of the conference rooms towards the back of the building.

DiNozzo raised his eyebrows at the retreating figure, taking in his brown hair that glinted as he passed a light.

"Wasn't that Raymers?"

Ziva frowned, turning to look as he vanished round a corner. "I thought Raymers only worked on a weekday morning?"

"Maybe he got called in for over time?" McGee offered as the doors closed. The two shrugged, turning their attention to why Gibbs had let them off early.

* * *

Tom Raymers bit the inside of his cheek as he pushed open the door to the room, arms filled with papers they wanted filing. He sighed quietly. This was not what he had signed up for.

In the room, there were three other agents, doing similar jobs with similar feelings. One of the men in the corner looked up and grinned.

"Thought you'd gone for coffee."

"Yeah, well, any excuse to give the newbie more work and the entire office has something for you to do."

The man snorted, grinning, his dark hair cut short. The men in the room had told him they'd been part of NCIS for six months, doing little up front. The group consisted of himself, the black haired man known as Jameson, Roberts, the small, quiet woman, and Greg, a filled out man, so to speak.

Roberts smiled as he dumped the stack on the table. "Looks like you got stuck with the brunt of it."

He shrugged in reply, moving to the doorway. "Still want that coffee?"

There was a chorus of assents as he stepped out, closing the door behing him.

One other man was at the coffee station when he arrived, mixing what looked like black tar into a cup, and taking a sip without grimacing. Tom did it for him, as he moved to his side, reaching for the cups.

He watched the grey haired man out of the corner of his eye, making the coffee absently as he did so. The man turned and leant his back against the bar top, looking out the window at the encroaching night.

He's been told his name was Gibbs, a formidable agent around the office as well as outside work. Greg had told him once he's seen Gibbs fight with two men twice his size and come out with only a black eye. Jameson had told him he wasn't exactly the nicest person round here.

Taking the milk packets from behind Agent Gibbs, he balanced the four cups into one hand, turning his back to the agent. The man sighed quietly, almost in audible against the muted noises of the machines in the room before following him out.

Gibbs passed through the empty bullpen, reaching his desk with no apparent hurry. There he sat down heavily, pulling forward the file that had sat on his desk for months.

There was a bang, and a muttered curse, as Raymers fell over an out-sticking chair from the bullpen next to his. Gibbs looked over with raised eyebrows.

"Ow, ow ow ow." He muttered, rubbing his forehead. The coffee's stood, three out of four unharmed as the last one leaked across the floor. He picked himself up slowly, wincing as he pulled himself to his feet.

Gibbs lifted the fallen cup off the ground, taking in the growing puddle as Tom placed the saved cups on the empty desk. He offered a small smile.

"Thanks."

Gibbs just moved back to his desk, seeing the newbie move towards the conference rooms. He sighed inside his head, and slid the folder into his drawer. No point straining over it tonight.

He pulled his jacket on as he slid into the lift, missing the lasting look Raymers gave him as the door closed.

* * *

Tom sighed as the last sheet of paper was filed away into the creamy brown faced filing cabinets. Beside him, Jameson grinned.

"Well that took longer than expected."

Greg flicked his sleeve up, glancing at his watch. "Thank God we have tomorrow off. And the day after."

Roberts flicked the empty coffee cup further down the table. "Yeah, well God shouldn't have given us all this extra paperwork. Don't see why it couldn't have waited till monday."

"I heard," Jameson started, leaning forward conspiratively, "That the Secretary of the Navy was coming down to see Director Vance, so they wanted everything in order."

Greg raised his eyebrows. "Really? Where did you hear that?"

"One of the agents was saying about it when they were making coffee."

Roberts sighed, pushing herself to her feet. "Doesn't make no difference to me. I'm going home."

Greg shrugged. "I second that."

Jameson turned to Tom, smiling a little. "You care, do you?"

He snorted. "Not likely. If it means we have to do extra paperwork, I'd rather he didn't come."

The group lifted themselves from their seats, heading out the door way with their cups in their hands.

"Spoil sports." Jameson muttered, switching the light off and closing the door behind them. They moved to the elevator, before Tom froze.

"My jacket."

They sighed, Greg patting his back. "Only you kid. Go get it. We'll see you monday."

The group said their goodbyes as he turned, heading back towards the conference room. There he paused, looking both ways before sliding down the conference room. No one was around to see him.

Tom stopped outside a storage room, slipping inside before locking it. He pulled out a small, metal ball from his pocket, pushing in two sides of it and sticking it to the wall behind one of the boxes, before moving out of the room.

The next time he stopped was at an office, seldom used. He had been shown around on his first day, and it had been explained that most Senior Agents prefered to stay by there teams than be seperated. In here, he picked a file from the desk, and slid it under his arm. From his pocket, he took a paperclip, and swapped the one in the file to his own, before heading out the room.

He took the stairs slowly, pausing to look around he pressed a thing layer of plastic to the door of MTAC. He continued on to the Directors office. As he was about to walk in, there was a shout behind him, and a frowning cast woman came to a stop as he spun.

"What are you doing here?"

"I was asked to give the Director this." He said, dipping his head slightly as though embarassed. "I don't suppose you'll give him it for me."

The woman looked him over carefully, before shrugging. "Sure. I don't suppose your new?"

He grinned a little. "That obvious, huh?"

The woman laughed, offering her hand out to him. "Cynthia."

"Tom." The two shook hands, before he held out the file. "What gave me away?"

"The Director always goes home on a Friday night. To see his kids."

"Ah." He nodded, smiling a little. "I suppose everybody knows that."

She smiled, slipping the folder into a pile that sat on her desk. "Most people do."

Tom smiled. "Then how come your still here if your Boss has gone."

"I'm on my way home now actually." She showed the keys dangling from her other hand. "I just spotted you."

He blushed slightly, before offering her his arm old fashionedly. "Well then I apologise. I don't suppose you'd let me walk you to your car in recompense?"

Cynthia giggled to herself, before slipping her arm through his. "Don't mind if I do."

The two laughed, before moving towards the elevator, leaving the file, and the swapped paperclip, sitting on the desk.

* * *

**(A/N) And here it is! The Sequel! To Some Things Just Don't Work Out!**

**What do you think? Did you spot Alex? R&R!**


	2. Chapter 2

DiNozzo snapped pictures of the crime scene easily, avoiding the trash spilled across the floor of the alleyway with a crinkle in his nose. It reeked; not that anyone else seemed to have noticed.

Ducky was knelt next to the body, watching Palmer give an estimate cause and time of death. Gibbs was stood behind him, waiting. McGee held out the electronic fingerprint machine, a match on screen.

"It is Gunnery Sargeant Micheal Ross. 34, no kids, the man seems to have dedicated his life to the core."

Gibbs turned and moved to stand, saying nothing.

Palmer pulled out the temperature needle, putting it aside in a plastic bag. "TOD was round about half eleven two nights ago. Single gun shot wound to the third eye, seemingly from a distance."

Ducky nodded, smiling. "Well done my boy." He pulled himself to his feet. "We'll make an ME out of you yet. Will you please fetch the trolley?"

DiNozzo moved beside him, taking photo's of the bin bags before reaching down and taking the mans wrist.

"Tan line, could be from a watch. Possible motive?"

Ducky made a non commitable noise. "Reminds me of a time back in Scotland, where the police forces of my day were baffled by the mark, not unlike that one, on the wrist of a tourist who had come over from the sunny coast of Spain. The poor fellow had fallen to his death on one of the many crags of Tule Moor-"

"The trolley, Dr Mallard." Palmer called, standing behind two men in overalls.

"Ah." DiNozzo moved away, letting them go with the body. Ziva strode up beside him, camera in her own hand.

"What do you think?"

"About what?" He murmured, flicking through his pictures.

"The prank call last night."

He shrugged, taking pictures of McGee sifting through the rubbish. "Don't know, but this is so going on my christmas cards."

She threw her arms up, shaking her head. "Never mind then."

Gibbs phone rang as he sealed a plastic bag, sealing in the empty bullet shells that had been strewn among the rubbish.

"Gibbs." The team continued working, watching out of the corner of his eye as the man answered.

"Can't it wait?" He paused, before snapping his phone closed.

Ziva knelt beside where the body had lay, looking carefully as Gibbs came up beside her. She pulled at a rucksack, that was half covered with bin bags but reletively clean. She photographed it, before opening it, revealing a gun and a spare clip, along with two hunting knives.

"357 magnum Smiths and Wesson revolver. Same caliber as the murder weapon."

He nodded again, standing and calling over one of the interns. "I want all of this sent back to Abby's lab. Everything from this alley."

"Yessir."

Gibbs turned back to the team. "Clean yourselves up. SecNav gets to NCIS in an hour and a half. You're expected to be ready by then."

The group nodded, moving to the van as they picked up their stuff. Gibbs followed them, waiting by his car instead and watching the men load the contents of the alley into the unmarked van. He hoped Vance wasn't expecting much from his team.

* * *

Tom pulled the cap lower over his eyes, sticking to the shadows as he brushed the space next to the stair way. Across the room, a group of people waited around the elevator, others lingering round desks as they tried to look as though they were working.

When Tom had asked around, it seemed that to many of the agents, meeting the Secretary of the Navy was the biggest honour they could receive in their work place. The man was apparently witty, able to make any one laugh and incredibly connected. It was not something to miss, they said.

In the midst of the hubub, Gibbs' team carried on, DiNozzo the only one seemingly distracted. Ziva clicked a photograph onto the screen which they gathered round.

"Gunnery Sargeant Micheal Ross." Her voice carried over to where he was, clear despite the background noise of waiting people. "34, never married and has no kids. Just returned from a tour on the Mary Louise in Indonesia. Mainly a training exercise, except for a run in with pirates off the coast."

McGee stepped upwards as the photo changed to that of a crime scene. "I've spoken to Abby, balistics were a match. The gun that shot Sargeant Ross was the Magnun we found at the scene. So far, no matched for the partials we found."

"Phone records show that the man spoke little via phone. No incoming or outgoing calls in the last month by this number." DiNozzo said, guesturing to the picture of a phone that was from the crime scene. "Number definately belongs to our Sargeant."

"Could it be a pre-paid cell?" Ziva asked, turning to him.

"No. Apparently Ross has had the phone for years, just never bothers to use it."

Gibbs nodded. "I want to know who he spoke with. See if you can find out if he was acting strangely when they docked." He turned and strode away, leaving the team.

Dinozzo called after him. "Aren't you sticking around to meet SecNav?"

"If he wants me, he can come find me!" He shouted, not turning round.

DiNozzo turned round, eye brows raised. "What's got a bee in his bonnet?"

"Bonnet? What's a car got to do with this?" Ziva asked, moving to her own desk.

"Bonnet as in hat, Ziva. I mean why is he annoyed."

"Oh."

"He doesn't like formal occasions." McGee pointed out. "Maybe its because everyones treating it like that."

DiNozzo shot a look towards the elevator. "I don't think that's it."

Ziva hummed typing away at her computer. "Maybe he just doesn't like SecNav?"

"That's more like it!" DiNozzo announced, grinning. "See, this is why we have Ziva on the team. Because she actually thinks."

The man paused, glancing at both elevators before whispering conspiritively. "Why wouldn't he like SecNav though? The mans alright enough."

"Maybe he stole Gibbs coffee?" McGee put in, not looking up from his computer.

DiNozzo nodded approvingly. "Could be, could be."

Across the room, Tom looked to the ceiling as if to ask for help from a higher diety. The lights flickered, as if to tell him to get lost, and he shook his head, moving over as Director Vance headed down the steps.

As if on call, the elevator dinged, the doors sliding open to reveal the smiling figure of Phillip Davenport, 75th Secretary of the Navy. Vance moved to a stop beside the door, ignoring the crowd.

"Mr Secretary. I hope your journey was not too long."

The man chuckled. "Not at all, Director."

The two men moved away, slowly. Tom looked round the room as they neared, watching everyone but the to most important people. He slipped the knife from its sheath on his forearm, hidden under the cleaners jumpsuit he wore. The blade was dulled to stop it from catching the overhead light, and he held it loosely, eyes trained on a face moving towards the two from the other side of the room.

He kept his eyes one the man, in the same way he kept his eyes on SecNav, as the two moved indirectly towards each other.

Tom ran into the man first, knife held blade point into his side as he forced the two back into the shadow of the stairway, out the way of the procession. The Director and the Secretary never stopped or looked at them as Tom stood, holding the man.

He didn't turn to speak, audible only to the man he gripped.

"You're going to step backwards and turn, and straight into that elevator over there."

The man bristled before relaxing, doing as he was bid. "I won't be the only one."

"I count on it."

In front of them, the elevator opened, and Gibbs stepped out, passing the two of them without a second thought. The moved into the white box alone, the doors closing resolutely behind them.

* * *

The elevator doors opened to reveal a technician, plans in one hand as he wandered the room. Confusion littered his face as he walked to the bullpen next to Gibbs' and stood on the desk, reaching for the air conditioning unit above it.

DiNozzo raised an eyebrow at the man, watching as the plans were placed into his mouth and he pulled out a screw driver, flicking at the flap.

"Can I help you?" He called out to the man, who looked around before spotting him.

"Wha'?"

"I said, can I help you."

"Unless you're any good with a screw driver, don't think so."

DiNozzo sighed and shook his head, turning back to the computer. "Not quite what I meant." He murmured.

Bringing the grill down to the desk, he swapped the screw driver for pliers and worked away. Out the corner of his eye, DiNozzo watched him, more focused on that than his own work. The office was respectively empty, McGee with Abby to sift through the rubbish, the others out asking questions about the Gunnery Sargeant.

It wasn't until five minutes later that he knew he'd been right to watch him. DiNozzo jumped to his feet, half accusing, half afraid as he pulled out to pipes conjoined with metal plates and curled wires.

"What the hell?"

The man looked back down at him and laughed. "A-know. That was my reaction when I saw it first time round." He threw it from one hand to the other, grinning at the others grimace. "It's just a thermal decompresser with a dual filtration system."

"Oh."

The man placed it on the desk, hopping off and walking swiftly to the elevator out of view. Tom pulled out open the doors that he'd already switched off and dropped the pipes down the shaft. There was a clang and a resolute beeping as he shut the doors.

DiNozzo looked up as a resolute bang rang through the office. He looked up to see the engineer, wiping his brow in almost a relieved fashion.

"What was that?"

"It seems," he said carefully. "That your elevators just fallen down the shaft. It's not your air conditioning anymore that's your problem."

The man climbed back onto the desk and DiNozzo shook his head, wondering since when NCIS had become so problem riddled.

* * *

**(A/N) It seems Alex hasn't quite revealed himself just yet. I wonder what he's doing? Anyone any ideas? R&R**


	3. Chapter 3

DiNozzo cracked his knuckles slowly, eyes narrowed at the desk in front of him. Gibbs was no where in sight, and he intended to finish the donut he had bought this morning. Ziva laughed at his expression.

"You are not running a mile, Tony. It is food."

"And it will be worth it." He mumbled, not looking up. She chuckled and turned back to her work, shaking her head.

DiNozzo reached out to pick it up, just as Gibbs walked in.

"What have you got."

DiNozzo sighed and stood, moving next to Ziva. She began by putting the file with the Gunnery Sargeants details up.

"The man apparently spoke to few on board the Mary Louise as he was not part of the normal crew. He was put on it last minute for the training exercise when Michael Morraiy fell ill, the instructor he took over for. No one knew he was acting out of sorts as a result."

DiNozzo turned to Gibbs. "Ross had no family left alive, his parents dead by the time he was out of college and he has no brothers or sisters."

Gibbs turned and walked towards the stairs, face blank. There was a shout from the balcony stairway.

"Gibbs!" The Director stood, waiting expectantly.

"What?"

"You got my message." He said plainly, unimpressed.

"And?"

Vance's face darkened. "I expect to see you in my office before the end of the day. The Secretary wants to see you."

Gibbs turned and carried on walking. "He can wait."

"No he can't Gibbs."

"I have a murderer to catch." He called out, dissappearing down the stair way. Vance frowned deeply, turning and stalking back into his office.

DiNozzo turned to Ziva, eyebrows raised. "He really doesn't like SecNav."

The cell phone on Ziva's desk rang suddenly, and she quickly walked over. There was a mans voice she didn't recognise on the line.

"Is he there?"

"Pardon?" She looked up at DiNozzo, confused.

"The boy! Is he there?"

She frowned. "I don't know what you are talking-"

"Don't lie to me! There is no other reason that they'd go missing! He is the only one who knew-"

There was a shout and a crack on the other end of the phone, a loud scuffle audible before the phone cut off. Ziva growled and slammed the phone onto the desk, glaring.

DiNozzo watched on amused from his seat. "Still being prank called Ziva?"

She growled, stalking up to his desk, leaning over him threateningly. "When I find out who is doing this, becaus I will find out, I will slowly, castrate them, with a spoon, before leaving them to die slowly in a pit of wild animals."

DiNozzo paled, rubbing his neck. "God help them."

Gibbs strode in, picking up his jacket. "DiNozzo."

"Yeah Boss?"

"Get rid of that donut." He called out, heading to the elevator on the other side of the room which was still working.

DiNozzo's jaw dropped, watching as the doors closed behind him. "Do you think he meant to eat it?"

Ziva glided back to her desk and picked up her mug, walking out of the bullpen without a word. He shook his head, and picked it up, pushing the paper napkin it was on back. He sighed and leant back, taking a huge bite out of it, content.

Vance stalked up to him, and he hurriedly put it back down, chewing quickly.

"Where's Gibbs."

He sat, trying to finish, but Vance gave him no time. "Where is he DiNozzo?"

He put his hand in front of his mouth. "He went out." He managed, words jumbled.

Vance growled, looking over at the desk in the corner. "I thought I told him."

"Yeah, well Director." DiNozzo spoke, having swallowed the mouthful.

He turned back to him. "Where has he gone."

"He never said."

The man didn't say anything as he strode out, his expression dark. DiNozzo sighed again and shrugged, picking up his donut.

Vance's voice called out over the railing of the stairs. "And get rid of that donut, this isn't your break."

* * *

Tom smoothed out his suit just as the elevator doors opened. Again people had gathered around the floor, waiting for another glimpse of the Secretary. He was leaving for Boston that night to help co-ordinate an attack against Al Quiedan forces in Israel.

He sighed slightly and brushed the hair out of his eyes, looking up at it annoyed as he pulled to a stop beside the window. Across the room, Cynthia smiled at him, still talking to her friends.

He smiled back, catching her blush. In the bullpen behind her, Gibbs' team worked, each of them casting glances at the people lingering. Theirs was the only space that didn't have any one waiting to see the Secretary.

Gibbs on the other hand, had vanished long before anyone had arrived. Apparently, according to some gossipers who stood not far from Tom, the man had ignored the Director and walked out. The man had been angry to say the least.

There was a hiss as the door above opened up and the Director stepped out behind the Secretary. The former seemed a lot calmer. Inside, Tom grinned. He's never taken the Director as one who would loose his cool- but then again, it was Gibbs.

It was when the two reached the floor when things went hay wire. Tom spotted the two men as the elevator dinged and opened to reveal Gibbs. They stepped through the crowd, pushing Cynthia and the small woman beside her out the way and dived at the Secretary, pulling out some form of weapon.

He reacted instinctively, diving in front of the man and slap palming the hand that held the gun away. He hooked his finger into the trigger guard and twisted, snapping the mans finger as he used the mans figure to kick the other man's knife away. It flew and struck the wall, sticking in with a thud as screams originated out from some of the agents.

Tom swung himself round, pulling the man he had hold of round as the second man pulled his arm back to punch. The two staggered into the path where the Director and the Secretary had been walking, Tom being forced back into the wall. He gasped, and let go, ducking underneath the hit that was thrown.

Quickly, he jabbed two fingers under the mans armpit, and heard a shout as pain race up his back. Tom pulled him closer and made him headbutt the wall before slamming the side of his hand onto the space beside his ear. The man collapsed soundlessly as the second man dived at him.

Tom felt his head crack against the wall, and gripped the man by the forearms. The two twisted as they grappled, and he aimed a kick for the mans knee. There was a crack as the heel connected and the man fell, weight hitting the window harshly and smashing it. He tried to pull himself up but fell again, still holding Tom, out of the cracked window with a shout.

Gibbs ran to the window, his team behind him, guns pointed out. There was a figure, spread below, as people began to congregate around him.

There was a grunt, and a hand appeared, grasping the window ledge tightly, startling the team. After a mutter from the hanging figure, Gibbs pulled the man up by the wrist, and Tom grinned, lifting himself over the ledge, brushing glass from his hair as the guns clicked onto him.

He cracked his elbows slowly. "Sorry about the window. Anyone got any plywood."

* * *

Gibbs dragged the handcuffed man down the hallway, ignoring the feeling turning over in his gut. Behind him, the rest of his team followed, curious.

He threw him into the interrogation room, Ziva the only other person coming into the room.

"Tom Raymers?" Gibbs ground out.

"Depends." He grinned and walked round the room, looking at everything.

"On what?"

Tom shrugged. "It just does."

Ziva walked round and pulled out a chair, waiting expectantly as he stood on the other side of the room, back to the mirror glass.

"What have I been arrested for?" He asked, watching them.

Gibbs growled and ignored him. "Sit down." He didn't move. "I said sit down!"

Tom sighed and did as he was told, not even blinking as Gibbs leant over the desk, Ziva still behind him.

"What I want to know, is what the hell is going on!"

The man before him shrugged, undisturbed when Gibbs slammed his fist onto the metal desk. "I don't like not knowing. What ever the hell, just went on, I'm going to make sure you take responsibility. It's all going to fall to you."

Gibbs straightened up, reaching the door as Tom spoke.

"I already am, Agent Gibbs. And it always does."

The door slammed shut behind him, Ziva still in the room. He looked at her in the reflective glass, aware and unmoved by the fact she was doing the same.

She spoke first. "You are in a lot of trouble."

Tom shrugged. "That's not unusual. Some things just don't work out in the same way some things aren't what they seem. You of all people should know that."

They were quiet for a minute, and Ziva walked to the door, looking back once as she left. The other three were in the room with the flip sided mirror. She spoke quietly as they watched him through the pannel.

"He is hiding something. And he is not Tom Raymers." She ignored the sarcastic look she got from DiNozzo. "I do not think it is as simple as it seems."

"What gave you that impression David?" Gibbs barked as the Director walked in.

"What the hell happened?" Vance growled, the door banging closed behind him.

"We don't know." Gibbs said, turning to him. In the other room, Tom stared at the mirror with a small smile which Ziva caught. She growled quietly as Vance turned to look at the mirror.

"Who the hell is he?"

In the other room Tom placed his hands on the desk, jingling the cuffs with small movements of his wrists. With a start, Ziva straightened, eyes narrowed as she watched him.

DiNozzo put a hand on her shoulder. "Ziva, are you-"

"Shush." She snapped, before muttering something under her breath in arabic. Slowly, her eyes widened and she began to laugh, a startling noise in the quiet.

The men in the room looked at her sharply as Tom in the other room grinned.

Gibbs stepped up beside her. "What is it, Ziva?"

"Oh, well, I was right. Tom Raymers is not his actual name."

DiNozzo sighed. "We gathered that much."

In the other room, the now nameless man raised his eyebrows, amused.

Vance growled as he watched him. "He can hear us."

"He can." Ziva ackowledged. "But before we go any further, we need to turn all the recording equipment off."

Gibbs stared at her for a minute, weighing it up, before nodding. McGee did as he was bid, and the group congregated around Ziva.

"So what is it? Who is he?" DiNozzo pressed impatiently.

Ziva grinned. "We've all met him before."

"We have?" McGee asked.

"Who is he?" The Director snapped, faced dark with anger as he was pushed.

"That, in there, is our British friend, Alex Rider."

In the other room, Alex dropped the hand cuffs onto the desk with a clatter and waved, a big grin spread across his face.

* * *

**(A/N) Ta daa! Alex had finally revealed himself to the team! I wonder why he's there? :D R&R**


	4. Chapter 4

The group gathered round the teenage spy somewhat happily. Ziva was smiling broadly as she looked at the group. Gibbs handed Alex the water plainly.

DiNozzo spoke loudly. "How did you know it was him?"

"He told me."

He frowned. "He never spoke when you left, or at all when we were in the black room."

"He signed." She turned to Alex, who was still smiling. "Where did you learn?"

"It was for an undercover op in Saudi Arabia; I was dumb, so to speak." He smiled at them. "Unfortunatly, the fact that I'm here is of the utmost secrecy."

"Why?" Gibbs asked. "Why are you here in the first place?"

"Ah, well, that is more to do with the Secretary than anything. After all, I'm here because Project Red Hawk was leaked."

The Director stiffened infront of him, eyes narrowing. "How did you find out?"

"I have my ways. Besides, the fact that seventeen men managed to work their way into the building kinda gave it away to me."

"There are seventeen of those men?" Ziva muttered. "How do you know?"

Alex sighed. "A long story short, this mission has been going on for over a month. Their targeting the Secretary because it is him who holds the password to all the files that Red Hawk relates to. Without him- the entire project falls to pieces."

"Isn't there a back up?" McGee called out after a pause.

He shook his head. "Operation Red Hawk is the second movement in a trio of responses to international, worldwide Code Black. They are, a last ditch attempt that hold no promises to success, the only hope that the world has. This isn't just an American effort. Every intelligence group, minor, sub, internal, external, extinct, secret, forbidden, has been called forward to this problem." Alex paused before looking the Director in the eye. "And unbeknownst to the intelligence community, Blue Sparrow failed."

"So why don't you tell them?" Dinozzo sat in the seat Alex had vacated in favour for sitting on the table.

"I can't." He smiled sadly. "It's my job to make sure that the instigator of Red Hawk proceeds to its target, and that the final phase can begin."

They were silent for a minute before Ziva spoke. "You are the final phase."

"Indeed." He hald his hands up. "But I can't tell you what it entails. And you can't tell anyone you've seen me. I've followed this all the way from the start. At this point, it can not afford to go wrong."

Vance returned to the point which had most disturbed him. "How did seventeen men manage to work their way into NCIS?"

"All manner of ways, It just depended. At the minute, there are twenty five full operatives on this mission. The eight that I haven't mentioned are on route and at the destination that the Secretary will take. I've managed to take one outside cell out, but it's not enough."

They were quiet before the Director sighed. "I'm going to have to make something up to the Secretary, try to keep him here."

"What about Alex?" McGee asked, putting a hand on his shoulder.

He shrugged. "I'll leave that to you. Inform me of what you decide." He shut the door behind him quietly.

The team turned to Alex who sighed. "Tom Branders will dissappear. I'll find a new alias to work under."

Gibbs nodded. "Put yourself as someone who is close to the team."

Alex grinned suddenly. "How about as Gunnery Sargeants partner? If I say he wentout with his friends, and never came back, I can put up the pretense that they never got what they were looking for. I'm sure I can fake an attack against myself."

The team nodded before DiNozzo checked a detail which had stuck with him. "You'd be gay?"

"It wouldn't be the first time. And no one wants to know about a gay relationship anyway, so it's understandable that few people knew about 'us'." He raised his eyebrows at the group as they watched him. "But you didn't know that Ross was gay, did you?"

Gibbs growled. "How did you know?"

He shrugged. "I've seen him around when I was scoping for the agents in the back streets. You'd be suprised."

DiNozzo nodded in acceptance, making light of the situation. "Just rather you than me."

Alex laughed openly. "You would say that."

There was a small lull of silence. McGee coughed. "So how are we going to get you out of here?"

* * *

Alex rubbed the towel through his recently red hair, shorter than it had been before, watching as the printer produced all the details and documents he would need to become a new person. The room he was is was barren, except for the bed which seemed to have been thrown into the room as a half hearted effort to make it seem lived in.

Throwing the towel, he slid into the seat at the desk. Beside the files, on the other end of the desk, was a print out of a test result, blatantly showing the amobarbitual- the truth drug. He frowned at the results; there was only one person who could have slipped him the serum, and he was not happy about it.

Outside, there was the honk of the taxi that he had called, not five minutes before, and Alex picked up the battered duffel bag, shoving in the new identification papers he had made.

The taxi was a typical yellow one, which made Alex smiled. The Americans had their way with things.

Once in the cab, he pulled out his mobile phone, going about creating the situation he needed to work his way into the investigation.

* * *

Alex groaned loudly as DiNozzo pulled him through the office of NCIS attracting the attention of several other people.

DiNozzo sighed. "Stop being so dramatic."

"Hey! You saw the guy! I think I'm lucky to be able to feel anything at all!"

"Well according to witnesses, it was your own fault."

"Yeah, well, stuff the witnesses! They didn't get attacked by a frickin' bear!" He rolled his shoulders. "And I bet you went and asked his drinking pals."

DiNozzo sighed, pushing him into the chair in the bull pen as Ducky appeared with Gibbs.

"What happened?" The Doctor called out as he walked towards him.

"Found him in a brawl outside one of the pubs on 6th."

Ziva walked up behind him, leaning on the chair and murmering softly. "A bar fight?"

"Yeah, well what better way to produce marks and not have any proof. Plus, I was creating myself a background."

Ziva patted him on the shoulder. "How did DiNozzo find you?"

"He was getting take away."

The group turned to look at the man, who blushed and shrugged. "I was hungry. Technically, that was my break."

Alex laughed, wincing when Ducky pressed at a cut on his cheek.

The man tutted. "What did he do? Throw his glass at you?"

"Close." He fidgited, smiling a little before wiping it from his face. "He threw me out the window. On the first floor."

McGee coughed on the coffee he was drinking. "And you didn't break anything?"

"I broke someone's nose when I landed on him. Stupid guy looked up."

DiNozzo laughed as Ducky shook his head. "My dear boy, you should not be getting into fights! There is nothing impressive about them! It almost reminds me of a story; there were two men, brothers, fighting visciously for many years. They had been fighting for so long, their bones had whittled away and their hair turned grey-"

Gibbs put a hand on his shoulder. "Is he okay to be moved, Duck?"

"Oh yes." The man straightened, turning slightly so he was facing Gibbs but looking at Alex. "Nothing but superficial cuts and bruises. He just may want to clean himself up."

Gibbs nodded as the man walked away, grabbing his coat and throwing the keys to Ziva. "You're coming with me. We'll meet you out front."

Ziva nodded before walking to the stairs, glaring slightly at the out of order sign on the door to the elevator as she let Gibbs and Alex talk privately in the other.

Gibbs had led the way frowning, barely waiting for the elevator to move before switching it off.

"What were you playing at?"

Alex raised his eyebrows, unimpressed. "I could ask you the same thing. Amobarbituate? I'm sure Ducky would be happy to know what you're doing with that."

Gibbs narrowed his eyes. "I had to know what was going on."

"And I told you, didn't I?" Alex lifted up the vial with the clear liquid in it. "You didn't have to slip me drugs."

"You didn't drink it?"

Alex snorted. "Of course not. Amobarbituate smells like clovers." He leant forward and switched the elevator on. not looking at him. "I'm just insulted that you didn't trust me enough to believe in my judgement."

* * *

**(A/N) Ohhhh! Gibbs made the wrong move! How could he! That's just- evil! Looks like Alex is part of a huge, messy scheme: again. :D R&R**


	5. Chapter 5

Ziva was sat in the car, idley tapping her fingers against the stearing wheel, when Alex slid in quietly. Almost a minute behind him, Gibbs stalked over, climbing into the front seat, reaching for his belt as Ziva began to drive.

"My house." Gibbs said quietly, startling Ziva as she pulled out, sending her into the middle of the traffic. Correcting herself, she turned the car sharply, speeding off towards the house nearby.

The car journey was silent, Alex flicking through his phone. Ziva caught his eye in the mirror.

"What is your cover story then?"

"Name's Michael Jones. Born 89, brought up in Southern California before moving up here at the age of 17. Because of my parents. I'm a part time mechanic, and have a small job in a pub round the back of where I live."

Ziva nodded, aware that Gibbs hadn't said anything. They pulled up to the house quietly, Gibbs jumping out before the engine had been switched off. The two followed him in.

In the kitchen, Gibbs pulled out three mugs, kettle already on beside him as he guestured to the two to take the barseats opposite.

He handed them their drinks before speaking. "We need your help."

Ziva looked into her mug as Alex raised his eyebrows. "This is what the amobarbituate was for wasn't it."

Ziva spat her mouthful back into her drink, looking at Gibbs shockingly. "You gave him an amo- you drugged him?"

Her boss ignored her. "Yes. We don't know much; someone is planning to ruin NCIS, destroy it, and make sure that anyone who had anything to do with it suffers."

Alex spoke carefully, ignoring the fuming woman. "And you want me to find out who it is."

He nodded. "We never caught Cumberbach, from the first time we met you. Is there any chance it could be him?"

"No." Alex took a swig of his drink before carrying on. "Cumberbach is dead. Poisoned, I believe, by an associate of his brother. Ironic, really, but never the less."

Gibbs downed the coffee easily, leaning against the work top. "Then who could it be?"

He raised his eyebrows over the mug. "Why do you think it has something to do with me?"

"Because I've checked all our end."

Ziva spoke up. "And I have been getting phone calls, asking about you."

They were silent for a minute, before Alex cursed in italian. "I thought he- damn."

"What?"

He sighed. "I've followed this from the start; I was watching when Blue Sparrow failed, the poor guy. An Italian, with Venitian blood lines he told me when we first met. He was caught, and tortured. Suprisingly deftly, I suppose, but never the less. He's spotted me, and he knew he'd failed. There was almost... contentness, in his last minutes. Unfortunately, he called out my name, and well, hey ho, I thought I'd knocked the guy out before he'd got a good look at me."

"So he is the one who is after us?" She asked, confused.

"No. He is part of the attack against the Secretary. When was that?"

"This morning."

"I'd already sorted the bomb out by then." He murmured, frowning. He looked up at them and shrugged. "No idea. Personally, I'd like to meet the guy again, but we'll see what happens."

"He's dead." Ziva entoned.

He smiled brightly. "Well that answers that question then."

"There wasn't a question..."

Alex laughed. "It's a figure of speech. Don't worry about it." He stood up, stretching. "Do you mind if I use your bathroom?"

Gibbs guestured silently, and Alex glided away. Ziva turned to her Boss.

"You think he knows who it is?"

He was quiet for a minute before nodding. "He offers us little pieces of useless information to distract us from our main point. He will probably go after them himself."

She nodded at his assessment, having come to a similar thought herself. Ziva stood up to wash the mug out, turning to face the sink as Alex came back through the door, topless and towel drying his hair.

Gibbs frowned at his chest, which Alex caught with a small grin. "It hasn't affected me."

Ziva turned her head towards him, wincing as she saw them. "You were tortured, Alex. Of course it has affected you."

Alex chuckled. "They're no worse than everything else I dream about at night."

Making a non commitable noise, she walked towards him, slowly catalouging everything she saw in her head. Alex smiled at the guesture, still towel drying his hair.

"Some of this is recent."

He shrugged in return. "The things we do for our country, Ziva, and the things we do for the rest of the world. Besides, seventeen men broke into NCIS. They weren't exactly new to the game."

In her head, Ziva winced as she caught sight of the bullet line that shot across his arm, tearing at the muscle lines she could see. Gibbs watched her opposite, still drinking his coffee.

She opened her mouth to reply, but Alex cut her off. "It doesn't matter Ziva. Things happened, and things were stopped. That's all that matters. You can't change that."

Shaking her head, she moved back to the counter, finishing cleaning her cup and turning off the water. "Does not mean I can not apologise."

"Course it does." He grinned, shaking his hair slightly, ignoring the way it stuck to his scalp now that it was shorter. "But enough about that. What's the plan of action about how we're going about this?"

Gibbs straightened. "Everyones seen you now. We'll just say that DiNozzo caught you being attacked in a back alley, and we realised your relevance to the case. You've been on the run since your house was attacked."

Alex nodded, picking a peice of glass out his hair. "Sounds good. So I'm a witness... staying with you."

"Yes. We'll take it in shifts to keep an eye on you."

"And in that time, you want me to find your ghost. Well, to-be-destroyers really, but ghost sounds cooler."

"You won't be the only one looking. Those off duty will be as well. You just need to find a way in and out of the house that hides you."

He nodded again, before smiling. Ziva sat back on the stool beside him. "Do you know who killed our Gunnery Sergeant?"

"Haven't the foggiest." He smiled openly, putting the towel on the table. "But I do know he has nothing to do with the attacks on NCIS or SecNav. He's just a murderer."

There was a ringing of a phone, and they turned to Alex, half expecting him to pull his phone out. He raised his eyebrows.

"It's not mine."

Gibbs fished his own out and answered it tersely. The Director replied on the other end.

"SecNav wants a word. He wants to know where we got our information."

He looked over at Alex, who shrugged. "Tell him 'There's a reason a hawk is camouflaged'."

Gibbs repeated what he said, and the Director turned away from the phone for a minute. Ziva frowned at Alex.

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing really." Alex grinned. "I just like playing with government officials."

There was a cough on the other end of the phone, Vances voice reappearing. "He said that a sparrows song is hardly covert."

Alex snorted, hiding giggles. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Gibbs sighed and leant back, putting his phone on the table since Alex could hear it. "I think that was his reply."

Alex wiped his eye dramatically. "And it was beautiful- honest." He chuckled to himself. "God I missed this. Never quite had the time at the meeting, nor was it really the place."

Ziva shook her head. "I'm going to call DiNozzo, tell him the arrangements."

Gibbs nodded as the voices on the other end spread out. There was the indistinct mumble of chatter as the Secretary and Vance spoke. His voice cleared in reply.

"Gibbs."

"Yeah?"

"MTAC, tomorrow, with your informant."

Alex shook his head. Gibbs nodded and picked up the phone. "No can do."

There was a beat of silence before the Sercretary's voice came over. "What do you mean?"

Gibbs turned to Alex who signed his response. He spoke it for the men on the other end. "Sometimes, too much knowledge, or the wrong knowledge is dangerous. In different preportions. Red Hawk must carry on, no matter what."

As per requested, Gibbs hung up, before handing the phone to Alex. "He calls back- you can deal with it."

He laughed openly, hanging up with the phone rang again. "Sure."

They were quiet, the phone buzzing on the counter. Gibbs stared Alex in the eye.

"What is Operation Red Hawk?"

He sighed. "I've told you enough."

"But you never said what it was."

"Ah, now that's classified."

Gibbs frowned. "You've already spoken about it."

"As you pointed out, however, I never told you what it was. And that, is what matters."

"What can you tell me?"

"Nothing more than what I've already said. And that's mainly because that's what the... opposition have found out as well." Alex leant back, hands braced against the table top. "So it's pretty much the common knowledge of this game play."

"This isn't a game."

"And don't I know it." Alex sobered, dropping his stool back onto four legs. "I think Ziva's figured out what I meant when I spoke. She'll know the normal procedure, as most agents do. Her father will have made sure of it."

Gibbs nodded at the peace offering, before standing up. "There's a room upstairs. You'll know which one it is. Anything you need, just look for it."

Alex smiled at his retreating back. "Don't work on your boat too long. I have a feeling that things are going to get lively in the morning."

There was a slight nod of assent as Ziva passed him, looking over her shoulder confused. She turned back to Alex frowning.

"DiNozzo and McGee said they would be over early morning. Where is Gibbs going?"

"His boat. He said you can sleep upstairs in the spare room."

"What about you?" She frowned. "Why do I have a room?"

"He figured I don't really need protection. And he wanted you ready for work in the morning."

Ziva nodded, still frowning, turning to walk up the stairs. In the kitchen, Alex smiled, switching the kettle on as he made himself another cup of coffee.

* * *

**(A/N) So now we have our reason! He's not really an imposter, or evil, or anything! He's just plain old Gibbs. Well that's a relief :D R&R!**


	6. Chapter 6

Footsteps landed almost forcefully on the stairs as someone descended, obscured from the kitchen by the dividing wall. "I thought I told you to sleep upstairs?"

Alex shrugged, flipping the pancake with a practised ease at the stove in the kitchen. "Ziva needed the sleep more than I did. You run your team pretty hard, Agent Gibbs."

Gibbs sighed, taking another sip from the coffee that had been waiting for him on the bar between him and the teenager. "She's an adult. They all are."

"And the papers say I am too. Plus, I was looking further into your problem."

"Find anything?" DiNozzo yawned as he strode in, McGee behind him, pausing only to close the front door with a snip.

Gibbs frowned. "Don't you ever knock?"

"The door's never locked, and you never answer when we do." DiNozzo pointed out, before grinning. "Boss."

Alex shrugged. "It was annoying me that I hadn't found out anything about this during the time I was with NCIS. So I looked outside, set up a few contacts. They said they hadn't heard anything, which suggested this was bigger than you'd thought, bigger than NCIS itself. At the minute, I'm having people search further out."

DiNozzo nodded, staring at the frying pan before licking his lips. "Is there any chance that-"

"Help yourself." He threw over his shoulder, turning round with a stack which he placed on the bar, along with a set of plates.

Gibbs raised his eyebrows at Alex, as DiNozzo began to stuff his face. McGee sat down and grabbed a plate himself at the same time that Ziva stepped round the corner at that moment with a smile.

"Morning."

There was a grunt from DiNozzo, mouth full of food, and she shook her head slightly, sliding onto a stool as Alex passed over a cup of coffee and a plate. Gibbs looked at her carefully from the other end of the table, almost in assessment, before turning back to his own pancakes.

She looked around the group. "So what are we doing today?"

Alex turned to Gibbs. "At the minute, there isn't much I can do from here. I suppose it'll just be easiest to establish a cover and a persona for round the NCIS office."

He nodded, still eating slowly as DiNozzo pulled the last pancake from the plate, mumbling something about rule number 5 at the looks he received. In front of them, Alex stretched, rolling his shoulders slightly with a grin.

"So what are you lot doing today?"

Ziva frowned. "We still have to find out who killed the Gunnery Sergeant."

"And there will be a fun conversation with SecNav." DiNozzo spoke round his food, mouth open. McGee turned away, disgusted as Tony turned and ate like that in his face.

Gibbs sighed, standing up and putting his dishes in the sink with a clash. "Be ready in five minutes."

There was a murmur of assent as he walked up the stairs, leaving behind the rest of the group. DiNozzo sighed, sitting back with a sigh of content as he put the used cutlery onto his plate with a clatter.

"That was good. Why didn't you cook the last time you were here?"

He shrugged, turning to run the hot water. "Because I'd already eaten."

His jaw hung open in shock. "And you never offered us any?"

Ziva tapped his jaw closed. "Be glad you are getting any now."

"But that's unfair!"

McGee stood up, taking the two plates over to the sink and handing them to Alex as he washed. "I thought you ate before you left you house?"

"So?" DiNozzo looked over at him, frowning. "What's that got to do with anything?"

Alex dried his hands on his jean pants, leaving the dishes on the draining board and the team arguing lightly as he moved into the living room where he'd slept. Under the couch was his mobile phone and a small, flat knife that fit easily into the sheath on his fore arm, the long sleeves of his top hiding it.

He turned, slipping his mobile into his jeans pocket just as Gibbs bounced down the stairs, reaching for the keys. Behind him, his team bickered, moving towards the door as he stared, waiting for them to move.

Alex laughed to himself, taking in the easy way the team worked. There were some things he's missed, this included. Remembering his departure from the group the first time he'd me them, he recalled the offer. Some part of him yearned to be a part of that. A part of a 'family'.

But he knew it wasn't for him, as his phone rang.

"Yep." He answered as he stepped out of the house, closing the door behind him as the group separated to the two cars.

"Rider?" The voice was hushed, a careful note held to it. "I found it."

Alex stopped in his tracks. "I told you not to-"

"Let's be honest now, since when did I listen to anyone." There was a hacking cough, and the man wheezed a little before speaking. "The movement is closer than you think. The created a diversion route from New Chapel Lane to Windsor."

He sighed into the phone, smiling a little. "There was a reason I asked Grayson, and not you. You need the rest, Terry. You're body isn't going to heal if you don't let it."

The man snorted. "Yeah well, the fire wasn't that bad. And it was months ago."

"Takes more than a month to heal from an explosion, were you lost your arm-"

At that the man laughed. "Because your one to talk Rider. I'll send you the link."

"Thanks." He hung up, moving silently and sliding into the car with Gibbs.

The man raised his eyebrows, ignoring McGee who was sitting next to him. "What was that about?"

"It wasn't your problem; just been updated on how the attack on the Secretary was supposed to work after he left NCIS."

He nodded, pulling out the driveway as Ziva shot off down the street a head of them. McGee turned round to glance at him.

"I was looking over the security footage of the month before the Secretary arrived. You were right. We've had several people; agents, technicians, even visitors, coming in for reasons that haven't been recorded."

"Did you take me out of the equation?" He asked, eyebrows raised. "Because I bet the suspicious ones are me."

McGee frowned. "The suspicious ones?"

"You never see their face, always facing away from the camera or in shadow."

McGee paused before shrugging. "I'll take another look over it."

"Ask Ziva for help. She'll be able to spot some that you may miss."

He nodded, before speaking again. "I've also filled in the majority of the paperwork to do with your protection detail. The rest are a case of signatures and details, so you'll have to do them to fit in with your cover."

Alex shrugged, leaning back in the seat as Gibbs pulled up to the gate of NCIS. They were let straight through at Gibbs' glare through the windscreen towards the man at the booth.

Pulling up next to DiNozzo's car, they climbed out and entered NCIS, stopping only to get a visitors pass for 'Michael' as he waited, acting amazed as he gazed around the office before moving to the elevator with the group, paperwork he needed to fill in at hand.

Gibbs looked at him scathingly as the elevator doors closed. "You don't need to act so camp, or awed."

Alex smiled under the persona of his cover. "How else is everyone else going to remember me. Which is the point. It means if I change my personality, I change my cover. And that means I get free rein of the place. Plus if I'm somewhere I'm not supposed to be, I'm just lost and they can't wait to get rid of me back to your care." He grinned again, turning away from the unsure looks he was receiving.

The doors opened again, and he followed the two out to the bullpen where the other two were already at their desk. At the top of the stairs, the Director stood, watching them carefully before coming down to meet them.

"Gibbs. I need an explanation, and I need it now."

Michael grinned as the man stopped, walking past him to his desk. he spun onto the seat with a grin as the rest of the team busied themselves with the case.

"Tell him that the CIA discovered the leak and sent an agent undercover as a newbie." Gibbs said, staring at him. Vance looked at him, before looking around the bullpen once, missing Alex entirely before heading back up the stairs.

Alex raised his eyebrows, unimpressed as Gibbs stopped in front of the desk. The man watched him, before reaching across him for a folder and heading out the bullpen, shouting over his shoulder.

"Fill in the forms, Michael!"

Alex grinned, looking over at the team, and blushing slightly, he mock whispered. "He's so cute!"

* * *

**(A/N) Well, what do you think of that then? Ha ha I think an overly camp Alex will be something and a half to write, all the whilst retaining that underlying awesomeness. Because he wouldn't be Alex with out it. :D R&R**


	7. Chapter 7

DiNozzo watched the teenager spin idly on the chair behind his Boss' desk, paperwork sitting on legs that were curled up half under him. The boy chewed on the pen as he twirled, one foot pushing against the cabinet behind him, pen in his mouth.

The boy was totally different to that of his own character, playing the eccentric gay with almost an ease that disturbed the man. Alex had always appeared to be the ladies man, getting on easily with almost all the girls in the office that he'd met last time he'd visited. It was unnatural.

On the other side of the room, Ziva typed away, replying to her emails as she watched him out of the corner of her eye. One thing she could deduce was that he had a certain, profound skill in disguises, adapting to the change easily in a way that let him be there but not. No doubt the Alex underneath the Michael facade was still there, checking the room as most turmoiled or on duty agents do, but she could not quite catch him doing so.

Alex, on the other hand, bit the pen almost harshly, aware of the scrutiny of the two agents whilst he waited for McGee to return with his coffee. He knew what he presented was off for them, so their curiosity was well founded.

With a sigh, he spun himself again, pulling out his phone and flicking through it absently, presenting the image of a nervous man. The person he had created was 27, young enough for his looks to be plausible at the least whilst still making sense for him to be in such a relationship with the Sergeant.

Easily, he booted up the Internet, riding on a secure server before attempting to open his emails. There, halfway through, was the threat he had received a few months before, and which had been re-sent each week.

Not bothering to read it, he deleted it from his inbox, before closing the Internet down and resulting to playing on tetris. The high pitched tune grated its way across the room to the other agents.

Ziva shuddered at the noise, hitting her keyboard a little harder than necessarily. Across, DiNozzo raised his eyebrow at the movement, carrying on despite this with the work they were doing.

There was a starling beep from Alexs phone, and he frowned, standing up and moving to the bathroom as he answered.

"What?"

"I'm sorry to have to contact you at this time but-"

"What happened to the promise of independence from any country till this has been carried out?"

"Something's come up. I have permission to speak to you from all the participating countries."

Alex closed the door behind him with a snip, locking it before pulling out a key ring and pressing a side button on it.

"Well get on with it then." He spoke whilst checking the camera in the corner for any power.

There was a sigh and a ruffle, as though the man on the phone had shifted in discomfort. "There has been a threat against you."

Alex raised his eyebrows. "That's it. Your calling me to tell me, that someone has threatened me. Again, if you don't mind me pointing out. Why the hell are you jeopardising this fricking mission to tell me something that happens on an everyday occurrence!"

"Because they know about the operation."

There was a beat of silence before he growled. "I thought you found your mole."

"We did, but-"

"Obviously, you didn't. Find him, and stop endangering me. God knows you don't need to call me to do that."

"Alex-"

"Goodbye." He cut the man off, hanging up before he could get a word in otherwise.

Alex ran his hand through his hair as he looked at himself in the mirror. There was a polite knocking, and Ziva called out through the door to him.

"Michael? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah." He slipped out quietly, pulling the door closed behind him as he stood face to face with her. "Just a surprising phone call."

She raised her eyebrows. "One you were not supposed to get?"

He shrugged. "You know how it is. Communication is a last resort for most cases."

"Hm." She followed him back to the bullpen where he sat back in his seat, smiling at McGee who had left him the coffee.

Across the room, DiNozzo sighed, crumpling up paper and throwing it across the room to the bin. McGee watched him, the two missing the moment when Gibbs spotted them.

It took them a while to notice the glares they were getting. Gibbs slapped DiNozzo up the back of the head, before turning to Alex.

"Have you finished filling in the forms?"

He shrugged, smiling a little. "I've done what I can."

He nodded, taking the forms off him and handing them to McGee. "Sort them out. Michael, with me."

Rising, Gibbs led the way to the elevator without speaking. The two stepped in, Alex surprised when the man made no move to switch it off. Instead, they headed out, walking towards the main gate where they had entered.

They were quiet as they stepped out onto the street, ignoring the direction of the busy traffic. Five minutes passed, before leading them to a park full of children taking advantage of the sunny weekend. Gibbs headed towards the one empty bench in the shade.

He didn't speak for a second, instead opting to look round carefully whilst Alex stretched.

"How long do you think Red Hawk will take till it blows over?"

Alex shrugged. "Depends. The Secretary's part is only for the first portion. The minute he hands over the codes, the minute I step in as the dominoes fall, so to speak."

"So minutes."

"Less really, but more as the time period between then and now spreads. It all falls upon when SecNav thinks is right. He has to guess when it will have the strongest effect."

Gibbs nodded again, taking this into account. "So you don't know."

"Haven't the foggiest."

Gibbs felt his lips tug into a small smile, and he glanced at the boy out of the corner of his eye, remembering just how he had been entranced by the kid the last time he was here. He'd changed; his eyes a little older, a little darker; face more profound, cheek bones definite; shadows that hung around him in the light of day, invisible, but there.

"How long will it take before you have an idea about who is after NCIS?"

There was a pause, where he turned his head to the sky as the wind ruffled his hair slightly. "I couldn't say. It mainly depends on if anyone finds anything conclusive any time soon, but it seems unlikely."

"If you had to guess?"

He paused again, still not looking at the man. "A week before anything comes up, another before we'll be able to move in against the group working against you."

"Group?"

Alex shrugged. "In my experience, this kind of thing comes from an organisation. A single person would not be able to orchestrate this without leaving a personality behind. A group means there is no single mind, no single action behind it, but a collection which overlays. If it were simply one person, we would have found out about it long ago."

"You sure?"

"Yes. People are less likely to give things away if there are a few at the top. One person doesn't inspire enough fear."

Accepting this reasoning, he gazed around the park a little more. Alex nodded to himself.

"Do you want me to start work on it myself? I can ask around."

"What about SecNav?"

"I'll leave him to you for now."

Gibbs nodded as Alex stood, heading off easily. "Back here in two hours. Then it'll be time for Ziva and DiNozzo to be on duty."

Alex raised his hand in assent as well as farewell, gliding away from the bench without effort. The crowd of people swallowed him from apparent sight, leaving Gibbs alone on the seat without a care.

* * *

The bar was dirty, Alex first thought as he strode up to the counter. The bar man gave him a hard glance, before picking up a tea towel that had seen better days, and wiping at his hands.

"You're not from round here."

He sat himself on the stool and leant across, ignoring the quiet of the pub. "Doesn't matter." He said, changing his accent subtly. "Y'ave to travel further than home t' get what ya want."

He pulled a cigarette out as the man across the counter pulled out a glass. He frowned. "You can't smoke in here."

With a shrug, he put it back into the pockets of his hoodie, slipping the lighter into his jean pockets. "I hear ya know some people."

"Depends on what you want."

He shrugged. "Information. Need to know who's workin' on a bigger scale."

The man looked at him before nodding his head at a table in the back, shrouded in shadow. "You want Dave. He'll know something if anyone does."

Alex nodded, standing up and handing the man some money, before moving away to the corner he indicated.

The man at the table was big, was the first thing Alex decided. His hair was dark, and he held himself confidently, staring at him unabashed as he neared the table and slid into the chair.

"What do you want?"

"Lookin' to find out 'bout the big op going down."

The man waited as he pulled a wad of cash out his back pocket and laid it on the table. He scoffed, reaching for it, pausing as Alex pulled it away with raised eyebrows.

"Information first."

He growled. "How do I know you're not going to walk out on me?"

"The fact that this place is centred around ya' business, and each of the men in this room works for ya'. I wouldn't get to the door without a bullet hole in me."

Dave leant back with a small smile. "You're better than I thought kid. What's it you're after?"

"Wanna know who's after NCIS."

He was quiet for a minute, where Alex flicked at the cash absently. He sighed, before sitting up.

"Word is, its from the inside. Some organisation's funded it, working with the smaller group that's in it. They plan on tearing it apart here, before carrying out simultaneous attacks across America against NCIS. They want it to fall, and fall hard."

Alex nodded, spinning the money in his hand. "Any names? Faces?"

He shook his head. "They use code. I know there are three on the inside, possibly four, and they're called Rocket, Textbook, Toolkit and Teacher. They refer to the larger group as V."

Alex let out a sigh, mumbling about taking someone down. The man waited patiently before speaking again. "The entire thing moves next Wednesday. Or so they plan."

He nodded, pulling out a number card and handing it over with the money. "There's more where that came from if you find any more out."

Dave slipped the money into his jacket with a nod. "You got a name?"

"Cub." He replied as he walked away, slipping out into the dank alleyway in the backstreets of the city before heading back towards the park. He was late, and Gibbs was going to kill him, information or no.

* * *

**(A/N) Well then, looks like the clocks ticking! Who do you think will find the inside group first? R&R!**


	8. Chapter 8

DiNozzo tapped his foot iritably against the floor as he sat beside Ziva, waiting on the bench in the park. The children had long since left, leaving a few couples strolling under the orange sunset lit trees that lined the walkway.

He sighed. "Where the hell is he? You don't think-"

"He will be fine." Ziva glanced at him. "After all, he is Alex."

DiNozzo made a noise in the back of his throat, turning away again to scan the park. After a minute of near silence, he darted to his feet and pointed.

"You!"

Alex grinned as he neared, flipping his keyring round absently as he neared. "Me. Did I keep you waiting?"

He growled. "An hour and a half! You were supposed to meet us an hour and a half ago!"

Alex blinked and tapped his watch, frowning as the hands slid off the centre piece. "Hm. So it would seem."

Ziva looked at him sceptically. "Where have you been?"

He shrugged, before tilting his head a little. "Just checking up on some things. Have you found anything?"

"Just chased up some leads on the murder case." She stood slowly, before leading the way to the car. "Nothing... solid, so to speak."

"Hm." The three moved on in silence, passing under the boughs of trees as they headed towards the car park. The nightlife was just begining to come to life as the day waned away into darkness, the overhead lights begining to come to life.

Almost alone, a black car sat, and Alex sighed to himself, muttering something about them always being black. There were no people, just cars littered round, leaving a space around their car, which caused Ziva to frown and turn to Alex.

The boy was glancing round, casual, as he checked everything. He froze, two metres from the car, where he spun, facing back the way they came. There, three men stood, dressed in black, a small hand gun in hand.

DiNozzo swallowed audibly. "Well, this is a suprise. I don't suppose you know them, huh Michael?"

Alex shrugged, not taking his eyes away from them. "No, but they probably know me. I don't think it's going to make much difference in this situation."

Alex stood still as they began to move forward, DiNozzo taking a step back as they did, leaving them pegged. Around them, more people began to appear, all in similar etire, eyes fixed on their group. The space between them got smaller and smaller, leaving them ringed in a circle of people.

DiNozzo huffed. "Well this sucks."

Alex made a hum of assent, taking in everything he could without moving. The reflection of a car window just behind one of the men let him see behind him, and he kept a careful eye on his own team.

A man in front of them stepped forward, the circle closing behind him.

"Rider."

Alex tiltled his head. "Sorry, but who the hell are you?"

"I'm pretty sure you know us."

"I'm pretty sure I don't." he replied without a pause. Behind him, DiNozzo tensed, muttering about never getting out alive. Beside him, Ziva watched on, thinking the same thing.

The man chuckled. "You should. After all, wasn't it you who-"

"If you're here about the factory, I'm sorry, but that was your own fault. You pack flour, for god's sake. Why would you then use it as a base for terrorist attacks, is beyond me."

There was silence before Alex shrugged. "So it wasn't you? Fair enough. I suppose the explosion kind of made sure nothing came after me. Carry on, anyways."

They were silent again for a minute, before Alex sighed. "What?"

DiNozzo whistled. "You can't complain your life is boring, can you?"

He chuckled. "Sometimes, I wish it was."

"But what about the cars- the girls?"

"I'm a spy- it's secret. I can't exactly go up to a woman and tell her, and then expect her to jump into my red ferrari so we can drive off to a posh hotel where-"

"Okay, I get the picture." The man frowned, shaking his head. "Ruin my dreams why don't you."

"Ah, sorry."

Ziva raised her eyebrows at the two she was stuck with, suprised at the lack of professionalism they displayed. Before them, the men stood, faes blank as they watched.

"You sure you don't know them though?"

"I have no idea. It's happened before."

"What's happened before?"

"This?"

"And what exactly is this?"

Ziva snapped turning to hiss at her team mate. "Would you shut up for one minute! We are being held at gun point! Act like an agent, why don't you!"

The two looked at her shocked, before DiNozzo played as though he was hurt. "That, was uncalled for, Ziva."

"Oh shut up!" She cried, throwing her arms up.

Alex crossed his arms, turning back to face her. "Are you alright, Ziva? You're looking a bit pale."

"Now that you mention it, you do." DiNozzo agreed, before flinching and hiding behind his hands as Ziva turned her glare to him

"I am fine!"

"Are you sure? It's not very professional of yourself if you're ill and stay-"

"Shut up!"

The man from the circle sighed and shot, the bullet grazing Alex as he side stepped. The group descended into silence, beside Alex, who sighed.

"You know, if you wanted to talk, you just should have said something. Who are you, anyway?"

"I'm sure you know by now."

Alex shrugged. "Haven't a clue. Maybe you should, like, project your symbol into the sky! That way, everyone would know!"

"Like batman!" DiNozzo called out. "I loved that movie, especially the version with-"

"What's the point in being a secret organisation when everyone knows who you are?"

"Well then why do you expect me to know who you are?"

Ziva rubbed her forehead. "Now I see why no one gets anywhere with you."

"It's a skill."

The man stepped forward, raising his gun till it was pointed at the boys heart. "Here is how this is going to work. You're coming with us."

"Original."

"Let me put it this way. You come with us, or they die." He moved his arm, pointing the gun at Ziva.

Alex sighed. "If that's how you want to play."

In a second, he pulled out his gun from his waistband where it was hidden and shot, dropping to the floor as the others behind him did the same. Bullets flew above them, and Alex cracked two capsuals against the floor, letting up a plume of dark smoke.

Ziva let out a start as something grabbed her ankle, turning to kick at it when DiNozzo hissed.

"It's me."

She sighed, and shook him off. "I nearly killed you."

"Yeah, well, lets had to the car."

Slowly, the two began to move, trying to ignore the gun shots going on above. Suddenly, they reached the end of the smoke, and they looked out at the empty car park beside the car. DiNozzo let out a sigh of relief and stood, pulling Ziva up as well. Quickly, the two moved towards the car, unlocking it as Alex dived out the smoke wrestling a man.

"Don't touch that car!" He yelled, cursing as the man managed to punch him across the face. Pausing the two did as they were bid, stepping away as Alex flipped the man and knocked him out.

"With me." He cried as he turned, sprinting through the park and away from the site. The two followed, hurriedly, checking over there shoulders as they turned onto the main road, before slowing down.

DiNozzo let out a sigh of relief. "Why are things never boring round you?"

He shrugged, grinning and wiping the blood from his cut above his eye. "Maybe we should ring Gibbs?"

The two cringed. "In a minute."

Ziva shook her head. "Did you really not know who they were?"

"Course I did."

They were silent for a minute, before Ziva slapped him up the head.

"What was that for?"

"I don't know." She said, decisively. "But it made me feel better."

Alex sighed, licking his lips. "Would it help if I said I was sorry?"

She let out a sound of frustration and stormed off, pulling out her phone as they reached the intersection. DiNozzo clapped him on the back.

"I don't know who Gibbs is going to kill more, us, or you."

"You. I can hide."

"Hm." He frowned. "That is so unfair."

Alex laughed, and rubbed at the blood again. The two descended into silence, as they walked, before DiNozzo spoke.

"Did you find anything out?"

He was quiet, before lowering his voice. "I think so. But at the minute, I'm not sure what it is."

They were quiet again as Ziva walked back, face calmer than before.

"Gibbs is on the way, he's going to pick us up and take us back to his house." She muttered, moving to sit on the bench beside the road.

They waited quietly, and it wasn't long before there was a squeal of tires, and a black car pulled up. Gibbs stalked out, walking straight over to the team to check for injuries. The two waved him off, and he turned to Alex.

The boy shrugged. "What can I say? They followed me."

Gibbs was quiet before climbing back into the car, waiting for them to follow. No one spoke as they drove the short distance to his house, hopping out and following him in.

He spoke for the first time when they were settled on the bar counter.

"Want to tell me exactly what happened?"

"We were ambushed. They were waiting." Ziva spoke, looking at each of them. "They wanted Alex."

Alex shrugged at the look he shot him. "Not my fault this time."

DiNozzo shook his head. "Course it's not."

Ziva carried on. "We managed to get away. What was wrong with the car?"

"Bomb."

They stared at him. "What? It smelt like sulphur, and there was a plate under the car."

Again, they stared. Alex sighed. "It's better to be safe than in itty bitty pieces."

DiNozzo shook his head and laughed. "I like it."

Gibbs stood up, turning and heading down into the basement. Alex turned to them.

"Well that went well."

* * *

**(A/N) Sorry, this seems a bit of a spoof chapter, but I was in a bit of a funny mood. Should be more serious next time :D R&R :D**


	9. Chapter 9

Gibbs sanded away his frustration, trying not to push to harshly against the grain of the wood in the dim light. Above him, he could hear the muffled sound of the television, Tony's voice audible through the ceiling as he re-enacted whatever scene was currently being shown.

Without a sound, he put the block down and reached for the brandy he had poured into the old jar that was always lying round. There was something that was bothering him about Alex, something that hadn't been there the last time he had been with them. Something had changed. Something he couldn't quite put his finger on, but was there all the same.

At the top of the stairs, there was a light creak, and he looked up to see Ziva, watching him carefully as she shut the door behind her. They were silent until she made her way to the his side, her hands held together in front of her as she does when she's nervous.

"Drink?"

Ziva shook her head, sitting on the neglected stool as he picked up the sander again, moving so he could see her through the frame of the boat.

"What's on your mind?"

She licked her lips before speaking. "There is something... off. With Alex." She fidgeted again. "I know we do not know him all that well, but he is just too different. Like the incident tonight!"

Her voice sped up when he didn't speak. "He knew this was going to happen! He knew that he was going to get targeted! I think- I think he would have gone with them too, if he hadn't seen a way out. He is giving up, Gibbs. Giving himself up for something that we no idea about. And he does not care. There is no way that he is going to-"

She stopped herself, her head on her chest as she took a deep breath. She didn't know what she was trying to say, didn't want to believe where that trail of thought was going either.

The rough noise of the wood grinding filled the silence, before Gibbs spoke.

"You think this mission, the one he has been put forward to, is not something he wants?"

She let out a small chuckle. "I do not think he has ever wanted to get into this life. There is just something in his eyes, when he stares into the distance. It is just- too different, for what I remember."

Gibbs ran his hand along the grain of the wood. "He said you knew about the procedure for missions like this. That you'd figured it out."

"Hmph." She shook her head. "I had a feeling he knew." She ran her tounge across her teeth carefully, as she thought. "I do know. Or, I have an idea at least. I was taught the basics as the child of the Director. But there are just somethings, that cannot be said aloud quite yet."

He was silent, as he moved round, leaning against the work top as he picked up his drink. "What happened at the park today?"

She sighed. "He was late. I think he had been in a fight, because his watch was broke and there was a darkness around his throat, as though he had been strangled. We just turned around, and they were there. Alex just made comments, stupid, sarcastic things- riling them up easily. And it all kicked off. DiNozzo and I were at the car when he shouted at us to leave it and took off in the other direction."

Gibbs wiped his hands on the old jeans he had put on before leaving the house to pick them up. "Did he say why he was late?"

Ziva shook her head. "Just said something about some information or other. Gibbs, I-" She paused to figure out how to put it. "There is not a word, in English, for what Alex has become. He just is... existing. Waiting."

They were quiet as Gibbs thought over the implications.

She looked him straight in the eye. "He is ready to die."

* * *

DiNozzo laughed at the screen, missing the moment Alex stood up to walk to the kitchen. He watched through the doorway as he poured himself a glass of water, leaning against the door frame out of sight of the tv. His phone brought him back to his senses.

"Yep?"

The man from the bar grumbled something before replying properly. "You Cub?"

"What have you got?"

"I found the company that's paying for the operation, and you might want to quit while your ahead. These guys mean serious business."

Alex allowed himself a small smile before asking. "So who is it then?"

"Their full name is 'Veni Vidi Vici'. They're the worst thing you could get involved with. I say abandon ship kid- whatever NCIS has got involved with, leave them to it. You do not want to be there when it goes down."

He hummed, thinking things over before speaking. "Anything else?"

"Yeah. I was right when I said there were three. One of them has apparently dropped off the map; they called to report it, so it's safe to say he's as good as dead."

"Thanks. The money will be in your letterbox before morning."

"Rodger that. I'll contact you again if there's anything else."

He flipped the phone shut, staring into the distance before moving back into the living room. DiNozzo looked up as he sat on the couch, surprised that he'd moved. He eyed the phone in Alex's grip carefully.

"Everything okay?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah. Just one of my contacts calling to say that he had no idea. Said he's been running circles round the local mafia to see if they could get anywhere, but they're having problems on the inside so can't lean too hard. The gang war with the Chinese hit them harder than they'd thought."

"Ah." DiNozzo nodded, turning back to the screen. "So whats for dinner?"

Alex laughed as Ziva appeared from the stairs, confused. "What is so funny?"

"DiNozzo's thinking about his stomach again. Didn't you just run out for food?"

"Well, yes, but that was just starters." He grumbled, crossing his arms across his chest. "No need to be so mean."

Ziva chuckled. "What you really want is for Alex to cook."

He twisted on the couch, looking between the two with wide eyes. "Would you really?"

Alex shrugged, moving to stand. "I don't mind; what would you like?"

"What can you do?" He rubbed his hands wistfully, following the two into the kitchen. Alex placed his phone on the counter, starting to search through the cupboards.

Ziva shook her head. "Tell him to get take out."

DiNozzo shook his head avidly. "Don't listen to her!"

He shrugged and began to pull out ingredients, taking pans from various places over the kitchen. As he began to cook, the two team members sat at the counter watching him.

"How's your murder case going?" He asked, filling up the pan with water.

DiNozzo tensed. "Awfully. We found prints on the bags surrounding the victim. They belonged to a homeless guy- a homeless guy who couldn't remember his own name because he'd been drowning his troubles on the neck of a bottle. He can't even afford to buy a gun."

"The Gunnery Sergent also distanced himself from his work mates. He was not even supposed to be on his last deployment!"

Alex thought for a moment. "Wouldn't that stir things up then?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, what if something was already going on between one of crew and the person Ross replaced. If there wasn't enough time to sort something out and hide it, then he would have stumbled across it when he wasn't supposed to. And the crew member couldn't take the risk of him telling." He paused in the action of cutting the tomatoes. "That or he did something to one of the guys aboard the ship and the entire crew hates him for it. And that's why you can't find anything out."

"But then why would we not be able to find anything out? If he did something, the crew would be bustling to tell us." Ziva said, watching him.

He shook his head, gesturing with the knife. "Not if that was what got him killed. Personally, I think you should look deeper into the crew; he was on board with them for two months. He had to have spoken to somebody. After all, all service men end up sitting round playing poker."

"That could also be our motive." DiNozzo murmured, watching Alex tip the fruit into the pan. "Where did you learn to cook?"

"Don't forget it could also be due to a relationship gone wrong? If he picked up the wrong guy, specially a service man, and left him, his buddy's might go after him." Alex straightened, leaning against the top with a small smile. "I've always known. Didn't you ever bother when you were in college?"

"No, it was always pot noodles and take away, or ready meals." He shrugged. "I never had to bother."

Alex nodded, moving over to the hob to put the pasta and sauce on. "What about you Ziva? You cook?"

She shook her head. "I know how to. I just never got the... hang of it. Hang. Is that the right word?"

The two nodded, Alex moving back over. "Part of your training."

She smiled. "Yes. Unfortunately, I always got that and botany mixed up."

DiNozzo looked between the two. "Gardening?"

"Poisons."

He swallowed nervously. "Remind me to never eat your cooking."

They laughed, the sound being broken by Alex's phone on the table top. Frowning, he picked up, moving away from the two agents as he did so.

"We've got an attack on the Secretary. They know he's at NCIS, and they're planning on blowing the entire place. The agents on route have moved." The informant spoke down the phone rapidly, and Alex ran to his bag, swinging it on his back before diving out the house through the back door.

"When's it going down?"

"Now. The only reason we heard was because they called out to the local syndicates, and told them to back off."

"You know anything else?"

"Yeah. I managed to get hold of my man on the inside. The damn bugger said its a dead mans switch."

Alex sprinted round the corner of the street, hopping a few fences to get to the back garages as he hung up. Pulling one of the doors up easily, he slid in, taking the helmet off the seat before gunning the bike to life, shooting out of the box within seconds. There wasn't any time to loose.

* * *

**(A/N) Hopefully this makes up for the last chapter! Ha ha looks like things are getting serious! Let me know what you think; R&R!**


	10. Chapter 10

The streets were next to empty as Alex took the corner onto the main road that would lead him to the centre of the city. Beneath him, the bike roared as he neared the plaza, his driving skills wild as he took the shortest route to the NCIS building he knew.

Pulling up half a block from the building, Alex switched the vehicle off and slipped into the neighbouring street. There, the railings that surrounded the building met with the wall of the offices with barely any room inbetween. Smiling to himself he ran, halfway down the alleyway before kicking off the railings, to the wall, allowing himself to flip over the black spikes, hands resting on the metal.

After a second paused like that, feet up in the air as he rested, he let gravity take over, dropping him to the other side with a grin.

The grounds were quiet, street lamp like lighting pooling in certain areas, leaving enough shadow for him to use to get to the building without being seen. There, he crouched, pushing aside two small bushes as he looked through the window to the basement.

The lights were off, the machines dark in the night that it was. It didn't take Alex a minute to open the window and slide in to Abby's lab, catching the glass jars as he knocked them towards the ground. When no noise broke the silence, he smiled, putting the flasks backand moing round the table in the centre of the room.

The stair were easy to spot at the end of the hallway, and Alex made his way up them slowly, tugging his bag round to open it carefully. Easily, he slipped on the head set, dropping the wire down the front of his t-shirt so not to pull as he slipped the mode pack receiver onto his waist line with a click. Still juggling the bag, he pulled out two hang guns in there holsters; a Smith and Wesson, and a Browning, one for his shoulder, the other his waist.

Using his right hand, he flipped between channels carefully, finally settling once he could hear the Secretary of the Navy talking to the dirctor. From the frequency, he deducted that they were still in the office, conversing freely.

Emptying the rest of the bags contents into his pockets Alex dumped the bag at the top of the stairway, opting to switch his phone off carefully before moving.

The office level was empty, the lights dimmed in the late hours that it was as Alex emerged from the stairwell. The air conditioning blew lazily, the temperature bordering on cool. Hunched over, moving slowly, Alex crept towards the set of stairs on the edge of the room.

He hadn't made it half way up when the elevator dinged open, revealing eight men, each of which were carrying a black back pack and a hand gun. Each of them froze when they saw him, staring at him as he stared back.

Alex broke the silence eloquently.

"Well shit."

As one, the men raised there guns, bullets flying towards the space were he had been as he charged up the remaining stairs. With a grimace, he rolled at the top, pulling out his shouldered weapon to return fire, scattering the group as he ran the remaining feet to the door of the Director, pushing the man back in as he ducked behind the door.

Vance took him in easily, watching him battle it out from where he was in Cynthia's office, the Secretary just behind him.

The man growled angrily, glancing over the mans shoulder towards the boy. "What the hell is going on?"

"I could ask the same question myself."

Alex didn't look at them as he replied, instead reaching for his pocket to secure another clip, sliding it in easily. "We're under attack."

"I got that." SecNav growled. "Who the hell are you? Why is this happening?"

"Why is this happening? Because your the Secretary of the Navy. And because people are mean." He popped his head round the door frame, pulling it back quickly as a hole appeared where it had been.

The Director put an arm out on the mans shoulder, calming him slightly. "Now is probably not the time."

Alex snorted. "We're going to take the stairs. Head straight across and move downwards as fast as you can. Director, you have your gun?"

The man nodded, clicking the safety off grimly.

"Good. When I tell you to go, you run, and you don't stop till you're out the building and on the main road. Turn towards the city centre, and use the back alleys to get to the plaza fountains. I'll meet you there."

Nodding, he turned back to the Secretary, who looked between the two of them carefully. "Who the hell are you?"

"At this point in time, I don't think that really matters."

There was another burst of gun fire, and Alex dived out in the lull that followed, sprinting straight across. A trail of bullets followed him, ignoring the fact he had vanished round the wall.

With a grim look over, Alex nodded, setting the Director running across the landing, the Secretary behind him as Alex jumped over the banister, firing shots before he reached the ground.

Three of the men lay still and unmoving in pools of their own blood, the others twisting, following his movement as he rolled across he floor before jumping the bull pen. Realising in the moment he'd done something stupid, Alex tipped the table, listening as the bullets flew through the thin walls that he'd thought would cover him. The silence was sudden, as one of the men peeped over the card, the bullet hitting him straight in the fore head with deadly accuracy.

Suddenly, amongst the gun fire, there was a click, and Alex cursed, opting to run from the bullpen as the gun in his hand jammed. With barely a glance, he jumped, placing one booted foot on the table as he leapt again, throwing the useless weapon at the face of one of the attackers. There was a crunch as his nose shattered, the man stumbling backwards into the line of fire of his team mates, providing Alex with the cover he needed.

Crouching behind the metal file cabinet, Alex listened in the sudden cease fire. There was the dull gurgling of the fallen team mate as he breathed, and the barely discernable sound of footsteps moving carefully around the room.

Doing a quick count in his head revealed that there were three left. Which meant on from each side, and one from-

The bullet skimmed his leg as he dived to one side, the man behind him cursing as he moved, opting to shoot wildly at him as the others closed in. The bullpen ended far to quickly, leaving Alex to run straight at their companion, the two letting off a shot simultaniously. With a grunt, Alex dropped, ducking beneath a hail of bullets as his arm gave way. With out a thought, he swapped hands, the gun moving to his left as he tried to ignore the head set swinging from his neck.

Behind him, there was the sound of a gun dropping, and Alex barely had time to move as the foot crashed through the wall were his head had been, leaving a crater and crumbling plasterboard as the man moved round to face him.

The boots the man had on were black with steel toes, the metal dulled to limit the reflection of the light. And a size 8, Alex nodded to himself as he caught the shoe flying towards his face from where he was lay across the floor.

Reacting as he had been taught, he pulled, sitting up and twisting the mans leg as he aimed his elbow at the joint. The crack was resounding, the scream he let off reassuring Alex that he wasn't about to get back up.

Instinctively, he dived, grabbing the fallen gun with his good arm from where it had landed, twisting and landing on his back as he stared down the barrel of a gun.

The sudden silence was harsh, Alex's panting the only noise the two of them made. Outside, there was the nearing noise of sirens, leaving the two aware of the time limit they had.

Suprisingly, the man spoke first. "They gone?"

Alex nodded, unsure where this was going. "Left when I jumped to this floor."

"And the police?"

"Got nothing to do with me. Rather not be here when they storm the place."

The man nodded, before turning the gun on himself and taking his own life easily.

Alex looked away, slipping his gun into his holster before making his way to the stair case. There, he picked up his bag, jogging down towards Abby's lab whilst cradling his arm, trying to reduce the blood flow. It didn't take him a minute to reach the window he'd come in through, even less to slip through it and close it, wiping the bloody fingerprints he left as he did so, before pushing himself up and to his feet.

It was with a grimace that he switched his phone on, slipping out of NCIS easily as the police arrived, unnoticed as he walked away under the streetlights. Already waiting for him, thirteen missed calls lingered, almost laughing at him as he walked, reminding him that he had just stormed out without explanation.

Connecting his headset to his phone, Alex dialed the number that had called him the most, almost wincing as her voice crackled across to him.

"Alex! Are you okay? Where are you? We're on our way- just let us know where you-"

"Ziva!" He cut her off, walking up to the bike he had left with a small frown. "I'm fine. It's not me you need to be worrying about."

"Where are you?" She asked again, which was accompanied by the sound of a door slamming, presumaby to the car.

He sighed. "I'm fine. There are however, two people who need a lift-"

Gibbs voice echoed over to him. "Damn it! Where the hell are you!"

"The plaza fountains." He replied, face straight as he kicked off the bike stand and began to wheel the bike away.

There was a squeal as the car changed directions, and Alex rolled his eyes at the drama of it all. Ziva spoke once before she hung up.

"Do not dare move."

Alex chuckled, stopping to slide the helmet on and sit on the bike, tearing away towards the plaza; preferably before Gibbs got there to kill him.

* * *

**(A/N) What do you think? I know this is up early, but I'm going camping! I'll reply to you all as soon as I get back :D**


	11. Chapter 11

The motorbike slowed as it crossed the plaza, pulling up in front of the Secretary and the Director as the latter raised his gun at him.

Alex sighed as he stopped, pulling the helmet off and giving the man a disbelieving stare.

"They want to kill him, not kidnapp him. They'd shoot him before drive at him."

The man shrugged, holstering the weapon. "It's been a night. I trust NCIS is still standing?"

"More or less. You may want to close for a couple of days though, get some new carpet." He swung his leg over, resting the bike on its stand before moving away.

The SecNav looked between the two, frowning. "What the hell is going on?"

Alex opened his mouth to reply as a screech of tires came, causing him to wince and turn towards the sound. Behind him, the two men tensed, Vance resting his hand on his weapon as the black car pulled into the empty plaza square.

The NCIS team dived out, nearly sprinting across the remaining few feet of the plaza. Gibbs strode straight up to him, grabbing a fist full of his shirt and almost lifting him from the floor.

"What the hell were you thinking!"

Alex winced, letting out a quiet hiss through clenched teeth. "Maybe we should take this elsewhere first."

Gibbs shook him again. "No! What the hell did you think you were doing! You dived out without an explanation! God knows why- we're here to help you!" He tightened his grip to emphasise his point. "What the hell happened!"

Alex raised his one good hand, resting it on top of Gibbs to support himself better. "We need to move."

"I said what the hell happened!"

Alex steeled himself, looking into his eyes. "We need to move. Now, Gibbs. Questions come later."

The two stared at each other carefully for a minute, before the older man relented, lowering him to the ground to turn the Director. The man nodded, before turning to follow him to the car. Tony opened the back door for the two before pausing.

"Er Boss, there isn't enough room."

Alex shook his head and moved to his motorbike. "I'll follow."

"Take Ziva with you." Gibbs ground out, slamming the door behind him without another word. Alex shrugged carefully, still wary of his injured arm as the woman neared.

Alex slid onto the bike, passing the helmet back to Ziva as she followed suit. She glanced at him confused.

"Where is yours?"

He looked back at her with a small grin. "I only have one- I don't normally get partners. Plus, I trust my driving."

She frowned, shaking her head as the black car drove away. "What does that mean?"

"Means hold on."

Alex kicked the stand up easily, barely giving her the time to pull the helmet on and grab his t-shirt before the bike moved, tearing off through the back streets. Cars parked along the sides of the roads, taxis that ferryed customers in the late hour; none of it mattered as the bike roared, flying across the pavement of the road. The two passed the black car that carryed the rest of the team before turning off and running round the block, catching up again easily as the group stopped at the lights.

Tony gaped out the window, missing the way Gibbs tightened his hands on the steering wheel. Instead of following them, Alex turned off the main road again, leaving the car behind as he raced towards the back streets of the city. Ziva shouted over the noise of the engine and the wind.

"Where are we going?"

"Need to check with one of my contacts! Won't take a minute!"

The lights grew further apart, more often broken than not; the streets dirtier and more rugged looking than before. Forefronts of stores were shuttered, the occasional bar appearing with the tell tale neon signs flickering in the window. It was at one of these that Alex pulled to a stop at, ignoring the glances the patrons outside gave him.

He slid off, putting his hand up to stop Ziva doing the same. "A minute, no more. And ignore anyone who comes to speak with you. Do not accept anything."

She nodded, more confused than anything as Alex walked inside, past the smokers gathered in the doorway.

The inside was in no better condition than the neighbourhood. Men of all ages sat drinking, card games in one corner as others discussed business in the other. At the bar, the occasional man sat, watching the room carefully. All looked to him as he entered.

With a small grin, Alex moved straight across the room to one man sat alone by the window. He sat down, ignoring the sudden quiet and drummed his fingers on the table.

"I thought I warned you Taylor."

The man swallowed dryly, before wetting his lips. "It wasn't my fault- honest. Things weren't supposed to turn out like that. And I had no idea that-"

"Like hell they weren't. You knew I was on this! There is a reason no one knows where I am- and you bloody well led them straight to me!"

The entire bar was dead silent, as the man raised his hands. "I had no idea-"

Alex stood up, grabbing the man by the collar of his shirt with his good hand and slamming him into the table. "You led them straight to me you bastard!"

"I didn't- I mean, they-"

"I know they do! That was the whole point! I told you were I was for reassurance; not so you could get me, and the only way to save your bloody family killed!"

"Then you know I had no choice but to-"

"Like hell!" Alex picked him up and threw him out the window, the glass breaking easily because of the cheapness of it. Alex stepped on the table and hopped out the window, landing next to the man before gripping him in the same place he had before.

"Come any where near me, lead them to where you even think I am, and I swear to God you'll have lost the only way to save your family. You got me Taylor. Stay the hell away from me."

He dropped the man, ignoring the stares of the people in the bar. He slipped onto the bike and took off, preforming a u-turn of burning rubber as they shot off towards Gibbs' house, taking the back streets and residential roads more than the main ones. Ziva was quiet behind him, hands gripping his shirt tighter than was necessary.

Alex pulled to a stop outside the house where the car had just pulled up, the bikes engine ticking as it cooled and the two made their way towards the front door. Ziva stopped him just outside.

"What was that about? At the bar?"

He looked at her dejectedly as the two spoke quietly. "Just something I had to do."

"What did you mean about his family?" She grabbed him by the shoulder before he could move away, the two of them the only ones on the doorstep. "Why did you tell him to stay away?"

"He was the one who gave out where I was- because I promised to save his family. They were taken, and I told him I'd get them back. And because of that, he's followed me, and now?" He shook his head, shrugging her hand of his shoulder. "Likely hood is his family is dead. How do I tell him that Ziva? How do I tell him that it was him, who caused their deaths out of his love, out of his desperation? I can't Ziva. I just have to hope I'm wrong."

Pushing open the door, he strode in, no sign of the turmoil evident on his face as he headed to the kitchen where the group was waiting, more impatient then not. Gibbs was the only one standing.

"Care to explain what the hell is going on?"

Alex sighed, moving past him as he began to speak, taking the first aid box from under the kitchen sink. "I'd already told you I had my contacts on the look out for anything about either problem. When I got the call, I had no option but to leave immediatly. If I had waited to tell you, NCIS would be in pieces."

"Like hell! It takes a minute to shout one of us! You were talking to Ziva and Tony at the time! Why didn't you say anything!"

"What did you expect Gibbs! This is my problem- not yours! Like hell if I was going to drag you into this!"

"That's not for you to decide!" He roared, grabbing him by his arm, pausing only when he felt the blood.

Alex shook his head, more subdued now in the pain on the hand on the bullet wound. "No Gibbs. It does. I brought you into this- that makes it my responsibility. I couldn't risk it. Not against them."

Ziva spoke up, the only one able to in the silence as Gibbs dropped his arm to look at the blood on his hands. "Who, Alex? Against who?"

He pulled the sleeve of his t-shirt up, ignoring the hisses and winces of the others as they caught sight of the hole in his arm. He was silent as he checked it, using his fingers to pry it open to see the damage, all the while biting his tounge to get past the pain. He was lucky. The shot had been clean, not hitting any major arteries and only skimming the outer layer of muscle and bone. It would be easy enough to disinfect it and stitch it up.

Ziva spoke again, voice more confident the second time round. "Who, Alex?"

He looked up, first at Ziva, and then to Gibbs, where he met his eyes with almost exhaustion. "The same people who want to take NCIS down as a whole, under two different operations. You've met the before; Veni Vidi Vici have come back for a re-match."

* * *

**(A/N) It looks like Ziva was right- Alex does look close to giving up! Hm.. I wonder what Taylor has to do with this? And what does VVV want with NCIS? R&R**


	12. Chapter 12

DiNozzo blinked slowly, his face a turmoil of confusion. "I'm sorry, can you say that again please."

The Secretary frowned, glancing at Vance. "When did you get mixed up with them? Why was I never told?"

"Why didn't you tell us! I asked you if you knew, and you said you didn't!" Gibbs growled, as Alex sat on the last bar stool, taking out several items from the first aid box.

"That's just it. I didn't know. I had an informant look into it, who told me tonight that it was VVV."

Ziva crossed her arms. "Then how do you know that both 'operations' are done by them?"

"Because of the attack." Pulling a needle from its paper wrapping, he carefully drew a clear liquid from a small vial also in the box, before sticking it just above the bullet wound with a hiss. "One of the men could have gotten away, but instead he decided to end his own life since we were in a stale mate."

"So that means he is dedicated. Why does that make him part of them?"

Alex twiddled his fingers slightly, trying to get the blood to circulate round faster. "Because to date, there is only one organisation that is currently active that kills off their own operatives if they are captured. They either take their own life, or the capsule hidden at the back of their mouths is broken and they are poisoned. Slowly. It makes sense that way that they do it themselves."

The Secretary slammed his hand down on the work top, startling the group and Alex pulled out a needle from its sterile packaging and some surgical thread.

"Damn it! What the hell is going on!"

Ziva moved to lean against the sink, arms still folded. "Some one is after your life. Because of Red Hawk."

"I got that! I mean what the hell are you talking about! And who the hell are you!" He snapped, pointing to Alex.

The boy raised his eyebrows, holding the needle in his mouth as he tied the thread. It was a tense silence as they waited.

"No body important." He said finally, taking the needle to skin at the top of the wound and starting as the others stared.

"Like hell." The Secretary growled. "You've just commanded this entire conversation, stormed NCIS and walked away."

Alex shrugged with his good shoulder. "Yeah, well, if you can't recognise me."

"Why the hell would I recognise you?" He frowned. "You're an NCIS informant. You'd have to be."

DiNozzo stared at his arm as he tugged harshly, before looping the thread back round and through to finish. "How the hell are you doing that?"

"You get used to it. And no. I'm not an informant."

"He's not NCIS." McGee added, trying not to stare. "Doesn't that hurt?"

Ziva leant over and pushed the vial of clear liquid over. "It is an anaesthetic."

"Well, you wanted me to speak. Normally I would have gone without." Alex rubbed his eyebrow before finishing tying the white bandage round his arm. "I forgot how much getting shot hurts."

"How do you forget?" DiNozzo muttered, as the boy packed the first aid box back up.

"Time, mostly. And because things have been... a bit more intimate than barrels and bullets recently." He turned to Gibbs. "Do you mind if I sleep this off? I'll finished answering any questions in the morning."

He stared at the boy carefully, before nodding. "Take the upstairs room like I told you. Otherwise you're never going to sleep."

The boy hummed, placing the box back before heading to the stairs. "Thanks."

There was no sound as the boy disappeared, not even the creak of the stairs that were beside kitchen. Ziva turned to her boss grimly.

"What do we do?"

"There's nothing we can do. We wait." He replied, fishing his phone from his pocket. "Gibbs."

Over the phone, there was a mumbled talk, and he hung up frowning. "We're needed at NCIS. Mr Secretary, stay here with DiNozzo and McGee. I don't know how long we'll be, but keep an eye out."

The two nodded as Ziva pushed herself away from the counter, following the other two out.

DiNozzo tapped against the table top before frowning. "Any one in the mood for take away?"

* * *

Gibbs drove to NCIS with a frown, watching the red and blue lights flash shadows on the sides of the building. Yellow tape stopped them from entering the car park, leaving them to pull up on the opposite side of the road. They entered with a flash of their badges.

Seemingly, the place was fine, until they reached the elevator, in which a guard had been dragged and shot, the man staring sightlessly at them. Ducky was already by his side, bag next to him as he began his work.

"What have you got Duck? Is this it?"

"Ah, Jethero, Director, Miss David. I'm afraid not. This one is only the beginning. The rest are on the next floor."

Gibbs nodded, before turning and leading the way, taking the stairs beside the elevator two at a time. There were far more people on the next floor.

The three stopped, still in their tracks as they took in the full extent of the damage done. Bodies were strewn across the room; in front of the elevator, the base of the stairs, in the bullpens where they had worked for years. All men, all dressed identically, and all dead.

Ziva was the first to move, approaching one man sprawled not far from them and crouching by his side. His gun was still gripped in his hand.

"Alex was telling the truth." She murmured, looking to the two. She pointed to a man they could not quite see, his legs the only visible part of him from the stairwell. "He was poisoned. He committed suicide."

Gibbs nodded before moving himself, the three gradually making their way round the room as they surveyed the damage. "Ziva?" He asked finally as they reached the base of the stairs.

She nodded, before pointing her fingers like a gun. "Something happened for him to reach here. He probably shot from the top of the stairs, taking out... Three men, maybe. He jumped the railing, landing here."

Looking round, she moved closer to the bullpen. "He needed cover, so he hopped the wall and tipped the table, returning fire, perhaps wounding one, and killing another." She paused to pick up a gun with a pen lying round. "Then his gun jammed, so he used it as a distraction? One of their own got in the line of fire and died."

She moved slowly round the space. "He then moved, over this bullpen wall." She pointed with her finger, one hand up in front of her as she spoke. "And crouched behind the filing cabinet, before moving again, where he shot one, broke the leg of an other, perhaps a kneecapping? Here, he lay. And the other man killed himself." Pausing for a second, she nodded, looking up at the two on the other side of the room.

Vance frowned. "How do you know?"

"Bullet holes, trajectory. The way the men are facing." She shrugged. "Experience."

"Good work Ziva." Gibbs said, looking round the room as more footsteps appeared from the stair well by the elevator. Tobias Fornell appeared, frowning heavily as men clad in blue jackets spread around the room from behind him.

"What the hell happened?"

The Director frowned. "Fornell. What are you doing here?"

"An agency was attacked. That comes under FBI jurisdiction." He glanced at the bodies before he moved in front of them. "I hate to be the one to ask, but was this done by one of you?"

Ziva coughed. "It was me."

Vance glanced at Gibbs before stepping to one side. "I think it may be better if we discuss this properly in the morning. I'll give you the baseline now."

Fornell nodded, before moving away, following the Director. Gibbs looked at her carefully. "If they look closely enough, they'll know it was not you."

"They should not find out Alex is here. This could blow his cover, because he was trying to help us."

"We have cameras here, Ziva."

She shrugged. "Then I will have some explaining to do. He can always create another cover if he needed to."

The two stayed a little longer, watching others do what they were used to. The Director was no where in sight, leading to the belief that it was going to be a late night for the man.

Gibbs paused as they reached the car, faces twisted into thought as he stared towards the distance.

"Ziva. Do you think you could find out from your father what Red Hawk really is?"

She bit her lip, before shrugging. "Possibly. I am not too sure, however, due to it being so secretive."

"Do you know anyone who could tell you?"

"Again... I can ask, but if we are seen digging too deep into things, it may bring more trouble than it is worth."

He nodded, opening the door. "Do what you can. At this point, I think we could use all the info we can get, especially if it is some how connected to us."

* * *

The man frowned, his hands steepled over the top of his nose. Before him, men and women worked away at computer screens, all linked to the one before him, showing their progress in their linked jobs. There wasn't much time left. That much he knew. In the corner of his own, a timer slowly ticked away, the red a stark reminder against the black.

The door behind him opened to let in a cool breeze, and he turned to smile at the young woman who had entered. She was small, her blonde her clamped back out of her face to finish the professional look the suit gave her.

"Is everything ready?"

He nodded, bringing up a chart of the screen in front of him and relating it to one he had in his hand. "We're on schedule. It will be ready in three days, if not less."

At this, the young woman smiled. "Well then. My boss will be pleased."

* * *

**(A/N) Oh no! :O Let me know what you think!**

**Woo got half my results today for GCSE's! Happy much :D :D**


	13. Chapter 13

Alex flexed his arm carefully as he came down the stairs in the morning light, startling McGee who was sitting at the bar nursing a cup of coffee.

"Couldn't sleep?"

Alex shook his head, sitting opposite him whilst still moving the appendage carefully. "No. I normally get up earlier than this, but I wanted to give this a better chance of healing before I start using it."

McGee looked at the clock, his mouth hanging open disbelieving. "It's half five. In the morning."

"Huh. So it is." He turned to look at him, smiling a little. "Then what about you? What are you doing up so early?"

"My turn. The Secretary's staying over, so Gibbs isn't taking any chances."

"Ah."

They settled into silence for a minute, Alex still moving his arm through positions. McGee spoke quietly after watching him.

"Does it hurt?"

"Like hell." He shrugged, standing to pour a glass of water. "It's going to be awkward to do anything for a while because of it too. Have you ever been shot?"

"Shot at, but no. Gibbs has been though."

Alex smiled, looking up to the ceiling. "You're lucky then."

"What's the worst thing you've ever had to go through?"

Thinking for minute, he sighed, twisting the glass in his hand. "Physically? When I met Three for the first time when I was 15. Otherwise? Loosing the last of my family. Somethings... you just can't forget."

"Why are you in this life?" He shook his head, still watching him. "You obviously don't want to be in it."

"Because it's better that I have to go through it than anyone else. I'm already broken, and nothing you can do will change that. This way, no one else will have to suffer what I have." Alex smiled softly, glancing at the floor. "It's enough for me to know this."

McGee frowned, confused. "But if it is so bad, why do you want the whole burden to fall on yourself."

Alex stepped towards the doorway, pausing only to answer it. "Because I have nothing else to loose."

* * *

Gibbs flicked through the newspaper absently, pausing to read the official story as to what had happened at NCIS. It was lacking, was what he decided, as he lifted the coffee to his lips. The only other person at the table was Alex, showered and refreshed, playing with his phone silently. McGee was napping on the couch, and Ziva had gone to run an errand, whilst DiNozzo was with the Director to offer any assistance during the investigation Fornell seemed intent to pursue.

Above them, there was the sound of footsteps, and Gibbs folded the paper up, waiting for the Secretary to descend to ask questions of his own. It wasn't long before he appeared.

"The last up?"

Neither replied as he slid into a seat, hands clasped on the table. He frowned before speaking again.

"Do I get the answers to my questions now?"

"Only if you ask the right ones." Gibbs replied, taking another sip of his coffee.

With a nod, he turned to Alex, pausing for a minute. "Who are you."

"The worst kept secret in the intelligence community, at times."

"And always?"

"Alex Rider."

He mulled it over quietly, before asking the room in general. "How do you know about Red Hawk?"

Gibbs shrugged, saying nothing, reaching for his cup again. Alex folded his arms. "Because I know."

"Why do you know? Red Hawk is supposed to be a crucial intelligence plot, on a need to know basis. Why would you know?"

"Because they thought something like this was going to happen. They knew it would be figured out soon enough what was happening, and would try to prevent it. SO they sent me."

Gibbs frowned into his drink, his eyes catching Alex's and holding them. They were silent as the Secretary stood up, shaking his head. "I'm going to get cleaned up."

"Use the shower, towels are in the cupboard outside the bathroom."

He nodded, vanishing up the stairs slowly.

"Why didn't you tell him Blue Sparrow had failed? Why didn't you say you were part three?" Gibbs asked finally once they could hear the sound of running water.

Alex sighed, placing his hands on the tabletop openly. "It wouldn't mean anything to him. As far as he is concerned, Red Hawk is a stand alone operation, with nothing proceeding or to follow."

"Why?"

"Because he is not intelligence. Sorry, but it's true. If he were to know that the previous attempt failed? What does that do to your moral? If he finds out, it's going to be a case of 'what can I do'? Red Hawk must proceed, and it must work for us to have any hope."

"That is not the only reason though, is it."

Alex cringed. "No. I told you how I watched Blue Sparrow fail. The point of it was to head undercover, into the heart of the organisations acting for this, and stay there. He was supposed to pass information out to me, to make it a slicker process. But as I said... he got caught. He was tortured, Gibbs. And when you're in this business, it isn't a case of 'you'll never give them anything', because at some point, you will. Everyone has a breaking point. It often helps for it to be after the point were you've lost your voice, so no matter how hard you try, there is nothing for you to say."

Alex looked up in the silence, as the shower cut off above them. "It isn't a case of if he says anything Gibbs, if they get a hold of them. It is how much he has to tell them, which will be the problem."

Nodding, the man stood, turning to rinse his cup down the sink. "How did you know I slipped you an amobarbituate?"

"I told you, it smells like clovers. I've been given it before; tasteless, but still has a smell. It is often the easiest form of a truth drug to get a hold of, and it's effects can last for over 4 hours. The symptoms only appear after the effects have worn off."

Alex smiled a little, stretching again and wincing with a scowl. "I don't blame you, you know."

Gibbs spun, frowning. "What?"

"I don't blame you. Everything you work for, your life almost, is on the line. No one was telling you anything. And then- I come along. You knew I wouldn't tell you everything; I'd been there 6 weeks already and hadn't said a thing. You didn't know who you could trust."

"Ziva covered for you, last night. FBI are looking over NCIS." He offered, accepting what he had said despite his belief that he should not have been forgiven.

Alex snorted. "They won't find anything. I have reason to have touched what my finger prints are one, or I would have wiped it down. Or smudged it at least. Hell, my files blocked to most of the world, and whilst a Code Black is in operation, I don't exist." He looked carefully at him. "But you want me to find another cover, don't you."

"Preferably."

Alex shrugged, standing up with a stretch. "Give me a couple of hours then; you won't even recognise me."

The front door quietly as McGee woke, yawning widely and turning to Gibbs. "Boss?"

"Get some more sleep, Probie."

The Secretary appeared at the base of the stairs as he moved to make himself another cup of coffee. "What do you want me to do?"

"Stay hidden. By the sounds of it, Red Hawk still must be completed. What is it exactly that you have to do?"

"You don't know?"

He took a sip, ignoring the question. "Can you do it from here?"

"Maybe. I'll need eyes and current feed on every part of the world, from here to Australia. Not to mention the latest news streamed straight in front of me." He muttered, before shrugging. "The best bet, and the easiest, would be to do it all from MTAC, where everything is already set up and running."

"Then that's what we'll do. The minute we are in the clear, you are going to do it."

The Secretary smiled slightly, mock saluting as Gibbs walked past him, heading to the basement.

* * *

"2 days till launch date. Come on people! We're on a tight schedule!"

The man sat back in his chair, staring at the screens before him, writing notes absently as he watched the charts move in estimations of various outcomes. For the most of the day, the men and women in the room had worked, staring at their computers diligently, fueled only on coffee as they were pressed to complete the work slightly earlier than the original plan. Behind him, the woman whom he had reported to watched the progress, never speaking, just staring.

"Boss." Behind him, the door opened, revealing a short man with thing, wiry glasses. "We've found him."

The man frowned. "Found who?"

"The man you asked us to trail from the warehouse in Malta."

"I never asked you to find-"

The woman cut him off, appearing to straighten in her seat. "What have you found?"

Surprised, the man in the doorway turned to her, confused. "He entered America little over seven weeks ago, through Dulles Airport, Washington. We tracked him for about one week, before he suddenly vanished. Hasn't been seen since."

"Did you check for similar facial features with different coloured hair?"

He frowned, her questions only serving to be more confused. "I don't think you understand. We only hava access to satelite cameras, meaning much of the facial features themselves are distorted. There is no way we can track him any further this way."

"Then why don't you use other camera's. The CIA and the FBI have several camera's set up in high priority places, as well as traffic cameras, street cameras, public cameras that are available for you to use."

"Yes, well, without permission, we can't get to them." He frowned. "I thought you said you were CIA."

"I am. I'm just surprised you haven't got access to them. But it doesn't matter. You have done well. Focus on completing the Medicore, if you will."

The man nodded, backing out of the room confused. In his chair, the man in charge stared at the woman. "What the hell?"

She sighed, ignoring him and flipping open her cellphone. "Damn it. He's here." There was a pause of silence before the person on the other end picked up. "Tracey. Yeah; we've got a problem."

* * *

**(A/N) Oooo! I think the bad guys are getting suspicious, and sneaky. I wonder what they're up to? Let me know what you think :D**


	14. Chapter 14

The text was limited to two words, but said enough for Gibbs to understand. He flicked the phone closed easily as he drove, the Secretary beside him.

They were headed to NCIS, to sort out the necessary channels for the web communication since the FBI were still in the midst of processing the building. Work had been suspended the minute they had found the bombs in the back packs of each of the dead men. Many were in panic.

DiNozzo greeted them at the elevator, shifting uneasily as his eyes caught the left over marks of the extent of the damage. They had been lucky to secure the use of MTAC; since Ziva had claimed to be the one behind the shooting, the majority of agents were under accusation by the Feds, along with Fornell.

Silently, they crossed the bullpen, the Secretary the only one to pause at the sight of the bullet holes and blood. It was easy to forget he hadn't seen the scene with the bodies.

A day and a half had passed since Alex had vanished, and none of the team had seen him since. Instead, the group had spent the time lounging round Gibbs house, always on guard but without a purpose, considering they had nothing to work on. SecNav spent most of the time watching the news, and Gibbs decided it was to know when the operation would be the most successful.

The Director met them at the door to MTAC, Fornell beside him. The two men nodded politely, before opening the door and allowing them inside. Ziva sat beside McGee at the console, one other technician in the room to smoothen the process.

Accepting the head set, the Secretary moved to the centre of the room and began to watch the streams of news from across the world pass by on the screen. The others moved to the seats to wait.

Fornell glanced at Gibbs skeptically. "You never did get me that coffee." He spoke quietly, inaudible to the rest of the room.

"So?"

"What's really going on here Gibbs."

The Director, glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, before standing and moving to the console, watching McGee work.

Fornell frowned. "What aren't you telling me?"

"It depends Tobias. What aren't you telling me?"

"Come on Jethero. This is bigger than just us, isn't it. Ziva didn't shoot those men. In fact, none of you did. But you know who it was."

Gibbs stayed quiet for a minute, watching the screen. "This is bigger than us, Tobias. And I mean that."

"What do you mean?"

"You work for intelligence, you work it out." He looked at him calmly for a minute before turning away again. "Somethings happening. Something no one is supposed to know about."

"You don't know either, do you?" Fornell snorted. "No wonder you're so cranky."

Across the way, the technician smiled, moving his gaze from the reflection and back to the screen.

* * *

"McGee, load up the lock code." The Secretary called out two hours later, startling the group from the dregs of their third coffee. Straightening, many stood and focused their gazes onto the screen as streams of code automatically flowed.

With a pause, he moved over to the console, slowly typing all the whilst watching for any sudden changes. Beside him, the technician continued to type, frowning harshly as he flicked between information. Cursing, his fingers flew faster, the screen beginning to darken and the lights flicker in the room.

"Send it now!" He growled as he continued to type, sliding to another computer as the console darkened and an image dripped itself into appearance on the screen. The SecNav glanced at it quickly, before swearing loudly and beginning to type faster. Again, the screen of the technician darkened, and he moved again, starting over as soon as he opened the command panel.

"McGee connect your phone into the hard drive."

Immediately, the man jumped to it, kneeling beside him as the screen slowly changed and began to darken. There was a bright flash, and the two were blinded, the technician unrelenting in his attack against the keyboard.

Ziva moved to his side, and glanced at his eyes, seeing them sightlessly staring forward. "Do you even know what you're typing?"

"Course I do." He snorted, flashing a familiar grin without turning. "But SecNav, you need to hurry the hell up, because I have a feeling I'm not going to last much longer against them."

The man ground his teeth quietly, knowing his typing speed was far from quick. It took him a few more minutes before he hit enter, and sat back, sighing. There was a minute as the clacking of keys sped up, before the screen went dark again.

Alex blinked as the world came into sight again, and he cursed, taking the phone from McGee and connecting it to his own phone. He tapped his fingers idly before glancing at the big screen to see the dripping image appear.

The group stood and stared at the white skull that spun, laughing silently at them. The animation dripped, slowly and realistically, disappearing from the screen at the bottom. Slowly words appeared in black across the skull, appearing and disappearing easily.

'Let the war of the world...'

'Begin'

* * *

_MI6, United Kingdom_

Alan Blunt stared at the screen of his computer at the laughing skull, mind ticking over the possibilities. Standing sharply, he moved out of his office, and was bombarded with similar images floating across every screen in building.

* * *

_MSS, China_

Bang Yu flew from her seat in her office, moving swiftly across to the main console in the room beside her own where she began to type rapidly. Outside, she could here calls of shock, before her secretary joined her, copying her ideas as they attempted to override the signal. There was a flash of light and the two paused, unable to continue as the screens darkened further and another skull appeared even on the separated network to the rest of the building.

* * *

_AISE, Italy_

Carlo Malfette growled and slammed his hand into the desk as he stared at the image floating across the screen. The skull laughed mockingly, and the knocking at his door did nothing to calm him temper.

"What?" He called out, watching as his deputy slipped into his office, and saw the image on his screen.

"It's across the whole building. Our main frames are fired, and we've lost everything."

"Damn it!"

* * *

_MND, Switzerland_

Fabian Cancellera stared out across the street that stood beside his house, ignoring the image that floated across his home computer screen. Through the window of the house opposite, he could see the same thing on an ordinary everyday TV, and he wondered just what the hell could have happened.

* * *

_CNI, Spain_

Marina Alabau watched as her boss walked in, seeing the turmoil that the IT division of the service was in. David Cal looked serious as he glanced at the power outage box, seeing the switches flicked to off, but the image still laughing on every screen in the room. He looked to Alabau, watching as she shook her head, face ashen as she realized the potential of the event against them.

* * *

_NIS, Norway_

Olaf Tufte glanced at Marius Nilsen as they strode towards the conference room, prepared to face the heads of internal departments to estimate the effects of the attack and try to limit the damage caused. In the minutes after the attack, every phone in the building had gone ballistic as calls from across the country came in to add to the turmoil.

* * *

_GVMSI, Iceland_

Alexander Petersson sighed with relief as the black screen vanished to a more comfortable one, one that had been anticipated for months. The white was stark and bright, but clean and promising after the dread that had been apparent. The small text gave him hope, and he clicked open the file, ready to do his own part in the mission.

* * *

_FSB, Russia_

Anastasia Davadova laughed cheerfully at the image that had preceded the skull. It was typical, and after having met the boy before, expected. It was amazing what a small action could do, and it inspired hope after so much silence. Albeit a little off the plan, but something that was needed, she recognized It would be a shame to loose him in the end.

* * *

**(A/N) Argh! Such mystery and evil is afoot! Don't worry though! It looks like everything is going according to plan. Or is it? **


	15. Chapter 15

The technician rubbed his face with a breath of relief, ignoring the way rest of the room stared at the screen disbelievingly.

Ziva snorted. "I thought you were not supposed to let them know where you were?"

"Well, somethings take priority." He replied with a grin, before disconnecting the two phones and standing up. Gibbs moved over to the console and clicked on the text that had appeared on the screen.

The red block of colour that was the hawk dissolved into lines of text that pooled across the screen. The man just shrugged as they read it, knowing it didn't mean anything to them.

Fornell looked between the screen and the technician carefully, before recognising him and smiling. "Long time no see, huh?"

Alex smiled, tipping his plain grey hat down to the man and looking round the group. "Well, this is me finished I believe."

McGee frowned, glancing at his phone before sliding it into his pocket. "What was that?"

"Just a little... problem."

"Explain it. If you're moving on, we need to know what to look for if anything comes looking." Vance demanded, staring straight at him without blinking.

The teenager let out a reluctant sigh, before gesturing for the group to take a seat. Once they were, he turned to the console he was standing beside and brought up a few documents and settled them on the screen. The three pages were long and full of writing, and Alex selected the first one before beginning to speak.

"As you know, VVV has slowly been rising up through the rubble of Scorpia, to take over their 'throne' and cause more turmoil than the world has ever been seen before. Part of their initiative is to cause disarray between the government and the people. Therefore, they figure that by taking out all the worlds secret services, there will be nothing left to stop them."

He ran a hand through his hair as he scrolled down to show a complex chemical formula and the outline of a huge capsule. "This is the Medicore. It has the ability to fight its way through any central database and steal everything that's on there; files, history, deleted items. Nothing remains hidden, and that makes this one of the most deadly weapons to the intelligence community out there. Knowledge is power, after all."

Fornell cursed. "Every operative and operation you have, is compromised. That's millions wasted!"

"If not more." Alex shook his head. "Every piece of technology, software, data we have, is gone. For every country, across the world."

"That's got to take up a lot of space." McGee muttered, frowning.

DiNozzo shot him a disbelieving look. "Disk space; not actual space. It wouldn't need to be any bigger than the computer itself, would it?"

The boy smiled a little, crossing his arms. "Well, not necessarily. They would need a huge space to power the thing, and then store everything as well- everything is recorded and written down, even the less important things. That's over a hundred billion GB per country. A lot of stuff to sort through."

He moved to stand closer to the group. "And that, is what we were trying to prevent. Unfortunately, Red Hawk didn't happen in time since the Medicore was already running, but at least now I have a signal to hightail."

"What does that mean?" DiNozzo asked, confused.

"That means that this is it. I have to move on, and complete the final phrase."

Gibbs stepped forward. "What is the final phrase?"

Alex laughed, grinning openly and glancing at the doorway. "I wouldn't tell you before, what makes you think I'm going to now. But I think you'll see me again before then."

The man stared at him for a minute, before stepping back and allowing Ziva to come up to him. The two moved away towards the door, the woman reaching for it as it swung open.

In the doorway, two men and a woman stood, guns pointed inside the room as they stepped forward. Each of the NCIS agents recognised them as one of their own and scowled at the blatant betrayal this meant.

Director Vance stepped forward first. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Roberts giggled let out a shot to the side of the man, her brown hair swept back out of her eyes uncharacteristically. "It may do you well to pay attention to who's pointing what... at whom..."

Alex rolled his eyes and crossed his arms behind Ziva, seeing how tense she was. The two were backed up towards the group, each of them outlined by the screen behind them.

Jameson spoke next, standing slightly in front. "We didn't want it to come to this, but what can you do? What with the SecNav some how making it out of here alive, and then the Medicore being followed up by the initial project. Now... you're all going to die."

"Life's just not fair." Roberts giggled again, flashing a grin at DiNozzo. The man looked repulsed, but did not move from beside Gibbs.

Jameson ignored her, moving along the line and waving the gun at each of them. "But who to choose first? The woman? No... that would not hurt her. She will not suffer enough. What about the geek? No? Then the leader. But then what fun is that. Maybe we should start with the Fed. No body likes a Fed."

Greg grinned from behind him. "Save the Fed till later; we can have some fun with him."

Jameson smiled crookedly, not missing the shiver that ran through a lot of the group. "Touch-e." He strolled back along the line the opposite way, and stopped in front of Ziva. "Maybe it will be the kid. Can't be any older than, what? 20? And you obviously care for him David."

He hand shot out and grabbed Alex by the arm, and the gasp of pain was not entirely faked. He was spun, and the gun pressed into his temple as he was held to the mans chest. Roberts cackled, running a finger across his cheek harshly to entice the group before them.

"What's your name kid?" She whispered, licking her lips. "I want to know just who we've killed, and I want them to know as well."

Alex feigned a gulp and stuttered. "My- I- I- my n- name, it- its-"

"Spit it out." She whispered, leaning closer.

He swallowed, before whispering clearly. "Alex Rider."

The two beside him froze, and Alex chose that moment to swing round, hands on Jamesons shoulders as he spun himself, legs kicking out into the face of the woman and sending her flying with a shriek. Jameson crumpled under the pressure as Alex dragged him down, Greg's gun sweeping across the space where his head had been.

He rolled from the landing and dived, shoulder taking the man into the seats where he punched him harshly in the nose and sending his head cracking back against the back. Instinctively, the man raised a hand to his forehead, and so did not see the blow that knocked him out cold.

The kick to his side was unexpected, but Alex recovered by flinging himself to one side, before beginning to trade blows. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ziva take out Roberts as she attempted to pick herself up, blood dripping from her nose.

With a yell, Jameson caught him twice in the stomach, sending him upwards slightly, before he took advantage and grabbed the wrist on the third attempt and pulling it tight. The palm of his hand gripped the mans elbow and shoved it out of place unnaturally with a crack, rendering it useless. In a fit of rage, he swung round to attempt to hit him in the face, and Alex repeated the action with the other arm.

Tears in his eyes, the man sunk to the floor, panting and cursing him as he stepped away.

Alex glanced at the awestruck group, before grinning and bowing dramatically. "Director Vance; your moles."

The group sprung into action to cuff the three and called the rest of the FBI agents in, none of them noticing till later the absence of the teenager.

* * *

Ziva yawned and pushed open the door to her flat with a grimace, pulling at the bandage that was wrapped around her fist. Ducky had refused to let her leave his sight until he had seen to the open wounds from punching Roberts when she'd woken up in the ambulance. The paramedics had not been happy.

Cursing the world in general, she moved towards the kitchen, pulling out a carton of fruit juice and slamming it closed before jumping a mile at the figure leaning on the wall beside her.

"Alex, what the hell?"

The teenager grinned a little, shrugging as he pushed away and followed the woman towards the living room where she slumped down. "Sorry."

She shook her head. "Do you know how much trouble you caused? We have three traitors who are ranting and raging about a teenage spy to anyone and everyone. There is going to be a hell of a lot of damage control to be done."

"To be expected. I think you'll end up with less trouble on your hands then you think though, what with everything going on." Alex settled back opposite her. "I just came by to drop something off, and then ask you not to say anything about the final part of the Code Black."

"Drop something off? What are do you mean?"

"You'll know when you see it." Alex smiled sadly. "Your father taught you well."

"What does that have to do with anything?" She asked, frowning heavily.

He laughed. "It has everything to do with nothing, Ziva; everything and nothing."

With a sigh, he pushed himself up, and the woman glanced at the stain on the arm of his shirt.

"Are you going to get that checked out?"

"Hm?" He glanced at where the bullet wound was and shrugged. "No. It's only started because it got grabbed. It'll stop, so there is nothing to worry about." He walked himself to the door, opening it and staring back at the woman on the couch. "It was nice to see you all again."

The door shut quietly behind him, and Ziva raised the bottle of fruit juice to her lips. "It was nice to see you again... Alex."

* * *

It wasn't till a couple of hours later that she spotted the envelope on the table top. Inside, was a card with an address on, and three pictures. The first was of a warehouse that was shuttered and bolted, the place empty. The second was of the main room, empty with nothing but a small pool of dark liquid in the center of the concrete floor.

The third was of the rafters where a woman, two small girls and a baby were hung, beaten and bruised, dripping, eyes staring sightlessly downwards towards the camera.

Ziva dropped the pictures, horrified, picking up the small note that slipped out from the pile of paper.

'There are some things in life that can't be helped. One of those is the nature of the world. The only thing we can do, is give someone peace. There is nothing else we can do after we loose _What Matters Most._"

* * *

**(A/N) I bet you did not expect that ending! Do not fear! We will find out what happens to Alex; just not in this story :D Let me know what you thought of the ending :D**


	16. Chapter 16

**(A/N) Hey!**

**Sorry, I know you were all thinking 'Another chapter? Yay!' **

**But this isn't. This is just to let you know that the prequel to this is 'Whether We Wait', a Castle crossover, and 'White Blank Page' which is a Finders crossover. **

**Don't worry though, we will be seeing more of the NCIS crew :D**


End file.
